


It's not a Spidey-Sense, It's an Idiot-Sense

by theunremarkable



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Iron Dad, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, School Shootings, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, mature themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 11:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunremarkable/pseuds/theunremarkable
Summary: “There’s a correlation,” Tony said, before pausing again. “Between you getting hurt, and Peter’s episodes. Just now with your hand, and the day of the shooting.  His injuries resemble the injuries you’re sporting, as well.”“So what, I’m killing him?”“I said correlation, Harley, not causation."~You know how I can tell?Cause we're connected.~Now with a twist of angsty, whumpy alternate realities for extra seasoning.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & May Parker (Spider-Man), Harley Keener & Pepper Potts, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 120
Kudos: 345





	1. School's over

**Author's Note:**

> Before you begin reading this story, please be aware that it will contain a lot of heavy and sensitive themes, as is why it is rated mature. There are trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter about the themes so please only read ahead if you feel comfortable and able to handle them. If you have any concerns or questions please drop a comment and I'll be happy to discuss anything with you. 
> 
> Brief mentions of a school shooting this chapter (in preparation next chapter where more warnings and an explanation are also included in the notes).

The shrill bell that signalled first period did nothing for Peter’s currently overwhelmed senses. Well, that wasn’t true. It definitely did something, that something being piercing his head. It felt like an ice pick straight through his eyeball to the back of his brain, the pain only increasing the already swirling pit in his stomach. He swallowed dryly, praying he wasn’t about to puke all over his desk. Not that it was his main concern right now, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter knew Flash would never let him forget it if he did.

Peter had felt just plain _wrong_ all morning, starting when he woke up, increasing exponentially while walking to school. When May questioned his complexion, he tried to play it off as nerves for his Spanish quiz in fifth period, not wanting to alarm her. He knew he wasn’t going to do well, he’d spent a bit too much time lately swinging through Queens when he should have been studying. Or sleeping. Or doing literally any of the other million things on his ever expanding list besides Spider-Manning or spending time with Harley. The latter made Peter feel weird to think about, and he wasn’t quite sure why. 

Of course he had to spend so much time with him, he’s was Peter's best friend, after all. Well, other best friend. And because Ned he got to see all day at school so why shouldn’t he make time to spend after school, and nights, and sometimes early mornings when Mr Stark is out of town and won't find out, and weekends, and all holidays with Harley to make up for school hours plus the 15 and a half years they never even knew each other? It was Peter's go to a successful argument. He was pretty much a genius, after all.

That debate sometimes left him with a bubbling in his stomach, but it was nothing compared to what he was feeling right now. The anxiety grew the closer he got to Midtown High, so bad that Peter activated Droney to sweep over the school once before the bell rang as he ran through the possibilities of what could go wrong while at school. 

Was there a bomb? (Droney came back negative).

Was one of his teachers going to turn into a giant lizard? (Peter listened in to the staff room from outside the building, but the heart rates and breathing sounded _mostly_ human.)

Was Liz coming back to school and Toomes is going to drop her off in some weird parole agreement, showing that being a good dad means that he isn’t going to steal and manufacture alien weapons anymore? (Peter watched as the students filtered through the school gates, but no Liz.)

As the last of the students ran in to the school yard barely beating the bell, and no New York sized villain revealed themselves, Peter resigned himself to the fact that he was sick. Which meant that something was _very_ wrong, because Peter hadn’t been sick since before the bite. He didn’t actually think it was possible for him to get sick with his current metabolism and enhanced healing. But it couldn't be his inaccurately named Peter Tingle. Normally that was an instantaneous nausea, quick hair raise and tingle in the back of his neck, only giving him less than a second to react. Which was very similar to all the unpleasantness he was currently feeling, but it had been 1 hour and 25 minutes _for god's sake_.

He wasn't quite sure how he made it to homeroom, let alone his first class.

“You okay dude?” Ned whispered as they slid into their seats for Chemistry.

Peter shook his head. “I don’t feel well,” he whispered back, eyes darting to Mr Jones’ desk, but the teacher was too busy fiddling with the roll to notice.

“Like, normal people sick, or is this like a Spidey kinda thing,” Ned mouthed the words 'Spidey', but it still set Peter on edge. 

More on edge.

“I don’t- I don’t know. I've never had this before, not this bad.”

Ned's eyes widened in fear as he tried to reply, but was cut off.

“Ned! Peter!” Mr Jones barked. “Do you have something you need to share with the class?”

“No sir,” Ned looked away from his friend, opening his books. 

“No sir,” Peter’s reply came out as a croak. At this, Mr Jones looked up, frowning at Peter a little. He studied him for a moment, before shifting his eyes down to finish marking the roll.

“You’re like, kinda green. And sweating." Ned whispered, quieter this time but he knew Peter's ears would still pick it up. "Are you sure we’re not all about to die?”

Peter shrugged as Mr Jones walked away from his desk, picking up the chalk to begin the days lesson. 

Much like homeroom, Peter didn't know where the first half of the class went. He was too busy taking heaving breaths to control his sickly stomach. He tried to ignore the scraping of the chalk on the board, Ned's notes with _Call Mr Stark??,_ and didn't realise he was ignoring his teacher until he was standing right in front of him. 

“Don’t be shy, Peter,” Mr Jones said as he handed Peter the chalk. “I know you know this. Up you get.”

Peter swallowed as he stood on shaky legs. His heart was now racing, but the hairs on his arms hadn’t stood up just yet. Something was wrong, but not in an immediate way. He tried to focus on moving one foot in front of the other towards the front of the class, but the constant trembling of his legs had turned them tingly, so deliciously painful that they almost felt like they didn't belong to him. Luckily, Mr Jones was right, he did know this. He didn’t even have to think as he completed the equation, quite possibly illegibly, but the former was fine because his mind was very much otherwise occupied with his haywire Spider-Sense. He turned to face the class as he put the chalk down, by which point everyone else seemed to realise that something was not quite right. He saw Ned's eyes widen once again in fear, Mr Jones mouthing something, _his name?,_ but a wave of deafening silence washed over him.

Simultaneously something inside Peter _snapped_. A wave of pain washed through him so severely that his world tilted. Peter fell forward onto Mr Jones’ desk, his nose colliding with the corner before bouncing off, hard enough to knock him backwards. His head hit the ground with a resounding crack, splitting immediately.

“Peter! Peter?” Mr Jones rushed forward, his arms reaching out for his unconscious student. He pulled his hands back as Peter stiffened.

“Call 911!"

Peter was still. He wasn't breathing, the only sign of life was currently seeping out through the wound on his head. Then, his lips turning slightly blue, he began jerking wildly. 

"Someone, time the seizure! Betty, run and get Principal Morita.”

Ned's phone was already out and connecting as Betty ran from the room. MJ also pulled out her phone to time as the rest of the class looked on, horrified at the scene unfolding.

Peter’s already bleeding head hit the floor with dampened thuds as his body flailed. Blood was flowing freely from his nose and head, pooling around the teenager on the floor. Mr Jones shrugged his cardigan off and tried to place it under Peter’s head, softening the noise.

Then, exactly 37 seconds and 6 massive jerks, as MJ would later describe to the paramedics, Peter momentarily stiffened again. With a large exhale, his body relaxed and his eyes fluttered open. 

Principal Morita and Betty had returned by this time, Betty giving out a small wail as she took in the blood before her. 

"Peter?" Mr Jones asked quietly. "No stay down," as Peter tried to push himself up, "Do you know what's going on?"

Peter didn't answer, his eyes dazed, staring up in confusion, coughing slightly as the blood from his nose ran into his mouth.

"You had a bit of a fall. You hit your head, here, I'm going to try and stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, I need to put pressure on your head. We've called for help."

"Roll him on his side," a small voice said from the crowd of students, all standing now. 

Mr Jones looked up, holding his cardigan firmly against Peter's head.

"Roll him on his side," MJ repeated,a little braver this time. "It's a recovery position. So he doesn't choke on his blood," she added as Peter spluttered again, the pouring from his broken nose covering his mouth. 

Keeping one hand firmly on Peter's head, and helped by Principal Morita, they turned him into his side, where his breathing was eased, less droplets flying from his mouth. 

"The ambulance is almost here," Ned cried, phone pressed tightly against his ear. 

"I'll go out to meet them," Principal Morita stood up from behind Peter, running as soon as he was clear of the boy. 

"You're going to be okay, Peter. You're going to be okay," the chemistry teacher reassured, but there was no response from Peter as he spoke. Mr Jones wasn't even sure if Peter could hear him. But still he kept repeating the promises, looking for a reaction in his eyes, his body, anywhere. He repeated them until the paramedics rushed in. 

"What happened?" The smaller of the pair asked, crouching down to take over from Mr Jones, keeping the pressure steady. Mr Jones backed away. 

"He'd been looking a little off all morning, but he just collapsed. He hit his nose on the desk, then his head on the ground and started seizing."

"Has anything like this ever happened before?"

It was Ned who answered. "No, never. He doesn't even get sick, not even a cold or anything."

The paramedics focused their attention back on Peter. 

"Hello, can you hear me?"

It seemed Peter could. He nodded slightly. 

"Don't try and move. Do you know your name?"

Peter's eyes closed as he exhaled. "Peter," he mumbled. 

"Peter who?"

This question seemed harder than the one Peter had previously been completing on the board. He frowned a little, taking a few moments before mumbling again, "Parker."

The paramedics got a confirmation nod from Mr Jones before continuing. 

"Nice work buddy, you passed the test. You can relax now. No more hard questions from us. It seems you've hit your head so there's a bit of blood, and had a seizure so things are going to be a bit confusing for a little while, okay? Once we fix up your head we'll get you to a hospital and they should be able to have a closer look at what's going on. But we'll take it nice and slow. Just let us know how you're feeling, alright?"

"M fine," he gurgled out, this time successfully sitting up as the paramedic wasn't ready for the strength in which he rose. 

"Peter, you've lost a lot of blood-"

Peter cut her off quietly. "Bleed easy. S'already stopped."

She lifted her hand away momentarily and it seemed he was right, there was only a faint trickle coming from the split. She placed it back as she spoke to Mr Jones. "Nice work on that." She turned back to Peter. "Even so, you've got a big sore on your head and you may have had a seizure, that's definitely something a doctor needs to check out."

"Mmm aunts a nurse. She'll do it." Peter's voice was groggy, but underneath that he knew there was a trace of panic. 

"I just tried calling your aunt Peter, she didn't reply. I'm going to call your secondary contact, let them know you're on your way to the hospital." Principal Morita stepped in. 

"Don't worry about anything but yourself right now Peter," the other paramedic said, fumbling in his kit to pull out a large pad and cloth. 

"No," Peter gasped, definitely panicked this time. "No hospitals." His hand flew out to grab the female paramedics wrist, but his eyes found Ned's with urgency, his eyes piercing with focus for the first time since he fell. 

"Peter, he's going to call Happy. It's going to be okay, Happy will know what to do."

This only seemed to confuse Peter more, staring after his principal as he walked into the hallway, and the male took this opportunity to start wrapping Peter's head. He did so in silence until Principal Morita stepped back in, shutting his phone as he did. 

"Peter's secondary contact is on his way, he said he shouldn't be more than 5 minutes. He asked if Peter was stable could you wait here until he gets here and not move him to a hospital. Apparently Stark Industries employees are under a special sort of health insurance and require their own facilities."

The paramedics looked at each other, their turn to be confused as Peter groaned, drawing his knees up. 

"Stark Industries?"

"Intern," Peter mumbled again, placing his wrapped and tender head between them. 

"And that means you can't go to a hospital even in potentially life threatening situations?" The male asked, somewhat scathingly. 

Peter simply raised his hand and gave an apathetic swat, head still between his knees. "Paperwork."

The female sighed. "Well, he is stable and responding. If that's his guardian then they have every right to refuse medical treatment."

Peter raised his head at this, almost as if to argue that Happy wasn't technically his guardian, that he wasn't even sure _why_ he was a secondary contact. Or when that happened. Instead he looked at the radio attached to the females shoulder in horror, seconds before it crackled to life. 

"Attention all available emergency personnel. Please respond to a current 10-71 at Visions Academy. Please advise when on route. Attention all personnel in area, please respond to a 10-71 at Visions Academy."

The paramedic noticed Peter's gaze. She met his eyes. "Don't you worry about that," she whispered quietly.

His gaze wasn't a question. 

Her jaw clenched as she pressed the button to reply, but it cackled again before she was able. 

"Unit 463 on route. Medical, please advise when on route. Multiple G.S.Ws reported."

"Go," Peter exhaled. 

But the female ignored him as she turned into her shoulder. "Unit 79, unable to respond. Currently assisting on site Mid-Town high."

"Go," Peter said again, louder. 

"We can't leave you kid."

"Go, please go," he mustered up all his strength to say as loudly as he could. "I'm refusing your treatment, Happy refused, you can't help me so just GO," he was almost shouting by the end, his frail hands pushing at her. 

She looked at him for moment, then to he partner before giving a curt nod. "Unit 79, en route."

Peter closed his eyes as they left, breathing heavily, the anxiety which he felt before he fell replaced by something worse. _Fear._ The worst kind. The kind he'd only felt once before, when Ben-

He collapsed back, luckily close enough to the wall that it caught him in a slump. He heard someone rush over, the sound of the footsteps announcing it was Ned. 

He opened his eyes and found his other best friend, _maybe his only best friend_ \- no, he couldn't think like that- knowing that he wouldn't have to speak to let him know what he was feeling. Ned nodded, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder. He could have sworn Ned was trying to stop his shoulders heaving from his breaths, but he didn't dwell on it for too long as another shrill bell pierced his brain. 

No, not a bell, a phone. 

One that Ned dug from his pocket. Peter's phone. 

Peter's confused thoughts were cut off by "F.R.I.D.A.Y force call. Yeah, maximum boosters, set course downtown. Kid? Pete?"

He grimaced. Not only had the ringing brought back another wave of nausea, but he knew the following conversation wasn't going to be good.

So he opted not to answer. Maybe that could avoid the conversation. 

It didn't. 

"F.R.I, give me visuals."

And with that, a hologram of Tony Stark's face appeared in the middle of Mid-Town High's chemistry class. 

Ned moved it closer to Peter's face so he could see it, which earned him a half-hearted glare. 

"Hey kid, Happy called me and told me what happened. I'd ask how you were feeling but honestly you look like crap so we'll skip that. Listen," he said a little breathlessly, "Happy's almost there and I've sent a jet for Dr Cho, she's in Chicago so she'll be a few hours but Happy will take you back to the compound and-"

"Harley," Peter croaked out. 

Tony's expression softened as he sighed. Of course Peter knew. "I haven't heard from him, I promise you'll be the first to know. I'm on my way there now, I'm in the suit, you just gotta sit tight and wait for Happy, alright?"

"No," Peter argued as he pushed himself up the wall. "Gotta get to Visions." The effort caused him to start coughing, once again the blood from his nose flying as he did. 

"I don't think so kid. It's straight to Med-Bay, I swear I'll get Happy to shackle you to a bed with vibraniam if he has to, until Cho gets there."

"M'sr Stark, I can't, I have to-"

"This is where you zip it." Tony cut him off, not kindly. Peter slumped back down the wall again and Tony sighed. "This attitude is not doing me any favours with my current stress levels, Pete. I need you to work with me on this one buddy, alright? At least until I know what's up with Harley."

Peter clenched his jaw, not caring that he had been reprimanded in front of his entire class. He couldn't care about anyone but _Harley_ right now. He had to get to Visions, to see him, to hold him, to know he was alright. 

"God I swear the two if you are turning me prematurely grey. You know how old I am? Don't answer that. Not enough to be grey is the correct answer, by the way." Tony was distracted for a moment. "Look, I'll call you back soon, I'm here now. Let me get this on lock down and then you can sulk all you want. I'll pick up some ice-cream on the way."  
  
Peter responded by staring down at his shoes.

"Alright, Happy's just pulled up. I swear to god if you swindle your way to Visions I'm going to sell all your stuff and change your passwords. Have fun interning with no access to Stark Servers. End call."

Tony's face shut down only moments before Happy ran into the classroom.

"Peter? Oh, jeez, Peter, you alright? What's going on?"

"I'm fine," Peter said as he pushed himself back up the wall for the second time, this time using Ned to help him stand. Even with his support it was a wobbly stance. 

"That lake of blood which came from I'm assuming your head seems to say otherwise. Where are the paramedics?"

"I told them to go to Visions. Happy, we gotta get there."

Happy's face switched from stressed to sympathy. "No can do. I've got strict instructions from Boss Man to get you to Cho as soon as possible."

"She's not even on a plane yet Happy, and I'm fine, you know I'm fine," Peter pleaded. 

Happy shook his head. "He said you'd try this. I can't Peter, we're going straight to the compound."

"Happy, please," Peter's voice broke. 

Happy sighed and looked away, shaking his head again. "Dammit," he cussed. "Tony programmed the car, it won't let us anyway."

"I'll re-code it, he won't notice." With that Peter walked forward slowly, stumbling again into Happy's arms. The security guard propped an arm under Peter's and another around his back, walking him out. 

"Not going to happen. End of. I'd get fired, I'd end up homeless on the street and then I'd have to employ some shadey man from a dark alley to hack into your college fund to compensate for my loss of wages."

Peter attempted a chuckle, which only resulted in more coughing and blood splattering. Happy turned around with a nod to Ned, who grabbed Peter's bag and phone, following them out the door. 

It swung shut after the 3 of them, leaving a classroom of stunned children, a principal and chemistry teacher to stare at the puddle of blood in front of them. 

"What the fuck just happened?"


	2. Bravery and stupidity go hand in hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely viewers who have decided to keep entering my crazy world. A bit of a spoiler alert but this chapter contains a depiction of a school shooting, so please read ahead at your own risk. I am fortunate enough to have never been involved in that sort of situation (and I apologise if my depiction is inaccurate or offensive in any way), but I am aware that some readers may not be so fortunate so please read ahead only if you feel comfortable. There's a small talking point to the story-line which I've included a summary in the end notes so if you'd like to skip ahead the stop reading at "This particular Wednesday was about to jump to the top of that list", read the end notes, then continue at "A familiar sound tore Harley from his daze, the sound of repulsors." The rest of the fic will slightly include feelings around the matter.

Harley hated Wednesdays. Somewhat because he had double English Lit and his brain just did not function when there wasn’t math or hands on work involved. Partially because Peter’s academic decathlon training was on Wednesdays, meaning he didn’t get to see his friend at all on this day. Perhaps a bit because his dad left on Wednesday, but Harley would not admit that to himself, much less anyone else. But today, Harley hated Wednesday because he had been up far past 3am pouring over Tony’s notes on a suitable analgesic for Peter. Who was an idiot. His idiot. His idiot, who, not wanting to bother anyone with a simple phone call had let a piece of shrapnel remain deep in his skin which healed over it quickly, when he was unable to remove it himself. His idiot, who experienced excruciating pain radiating through his leg with every step as the shrapnel, lodge into his femur, tore at him awfully close an artery. His idiot, who's hand he couldn't even hold in comfort, for fear of Peter breaking it as Helen Cho removed the two inch metal piece from his leg, his screams muffled as he bit down on a piece of leather. His idiot, who he couldn't even let know was _his_ idiot, because he was straight up a wimp when it came to conversations like that.

He definitely hated Wednesdays.

This particular Wednesday was about to skyrocket to the top of list of reasons why.

The call for lock down came during their homeroom.

Harley’s classmates sighed at the drill. "Just fucking change the gun laws and we wouldn't have to practice this so often," he heard a student mutter as they stood.

“You know the routine, everyone. Stay down, under the desks.” She called out. “And no talking,” she added as the students tittered. At least they got to go through the motions in a change of scenario. They were currently carrying out their home class in the library as their usual classroom was being refurbished, on account of, several students, unnamed of course, causing small but effective explosion in the back of the classroom.

Their teacher locked the door closest to them, whilst the librarian moved to shut off the exit behind them.

Harley pulled his bag closer to him as he crawled under the long table, pulling out the same notes he’d been staring at just hours ago. Considering how long he’d spent staring at them only hours ago, he thought he really should have memorised them by now, but biochemistry just wasn't his thing. His eyes were struggling to focus with lack of sleep. He rubbed at them, moving to turn them over as the first shot rang out.

Both in the distance, and near his own ears, students screamed.

Their teacher clasped one hand over her mouth as she gasped. She brought it down, trembling, as she whispered. “Okay, everyone. Just stay calm, stay quiet, and do not move from under your desks.”

Harley felt a press against his back, as his classmates huddled together, desperate to push themselves further into the middle.

Another shot.

Harley’s hands trembled as furiously as his teachers as he shoved the notes into the backpack, his heart beating so loud in his chest he was sure that the rest of the class could hear it.

The bell signalling first class cut through the thumping like a knife, but not one body in the library went to move. The only sound that followed was a horribly loud ticking of the clock, and whimpers from his classmates.

Minutes passed.

Another shot, a loud crash this time.

More time passed. Horribly slow.

With the tinkling of glass, the small window of the library door shattered to the ground. A hand reached through to unlock the door, as the shooter walked into the library.

Not a shooter.

A student with a gun.

James, a year below him. Quiet boy, like robotics. Harley had never spoken to him. 

There was a flash of movement as a student tried to run through the now open door.

Harley wouldn’t describe the next sound as a gunshot, only because he’d never heard it so up close before. It was an explosion in his ear drums, deafening him briefly to the cries of his classmates. Harley silently wished he was deaf as he heard the thump of a body, as Sarah fell to the ground, crying as she pressed her fingers to the hole ripped in the middle of her torso.

The next shot was louder, if even possible. Closer.

The whole classroom was screaming now as Harley looked over. His physics lab partner, Todd, lay still, as blood seeped down his forward. He pressed his eyes shut immediately, desperate to purge the image from his brain. 

The tiredness fled from his body **,** the adrenaline pumping through his veins causing him to be hyper-focused.

 _Get it together, Harley,_ he thought, opening his eyes and curling his hands into fists as he willed them to stop shaking. _Peter and Tony deal with gunshots all the time._ _Peter would- fuck, Pete’s got cheats._ _Tony’s human, what would he do.”_

But Harley didn’t get a chance to think about what Tony would do, as a pair of feet came to a standstill in front of him. Without pause, Harley lunged.

The motion knocked James off his feet, the gun falling from his hand as he landed on his back. Releasing his legs, Harley straddled the boy, thankful for his Rose Hill punch ups as he landed a blow to the boy’s face.

His gratitude didn’t last long as James bucked his hips, taking Harley by surprise. Distracted enough to be flipped him over, James now sat on his hips and and landed his own blow to Harley’s right cheek.

Disabled partially by pain but mostly in shock as the adrenaline wore off, Harley lay there as James hit him once, twice, 5 times down his chest and belly, the final blow causing his knees to curl into himself as the boy jumped off to reach for the gun again. Successfully grabbing hold, he turned back to stand over Harley, gun raised.

A combination of pure fear, stubbornness, and too many schoolyard scuffles to count, his stamina and determination caused him to keep fighting. He used his curled feet to kick at James’ ankles, the boy once again losing balance, landing on his stomach. Wasting no time, Harley jumped on him, pining his arms by his side as the perpetrator kicked and flailed beneath him.

“Grab it,” he gasped to Jess, nodding to the gun.

“Here, help me,” he motioned to another student, who was paralyzed by fear. “Help me,” he pleaded again, but before he got the chance to make a move, a commotion from the hallway whipped Harley's head up.

Peering over the window, Harley saw the hat of a police man giving the room a look over for danger. Relief washed over him as six men ran into the room, one immediately unloading the gun. Three men gathered around the pair on the floor, their own guns pointed and the remaining sat down on James’ legs, successfully stopping his movement. The officer who handled the gun moved to help on the ground. Reaching under Harley’s hips, he grabbed James’ wrist and brought it to the middle of his back, meeting it to his others wrist with handcuffs.

“Nice work, son. You can let go now, we’ve got him. I promise,” the officer spoke firmly into Harley’s ear.

Harley nodded, rolling himself off James, desperate to be free, catching himself with his hands behind him as he heaved. The officer’s hauled the crying boy to his feet, four of them marching him out of the library.

“We have the shooter apprehended, area secure. Moving him towards the unit now. Send in paramedics immediately, multiple gunshot wounds.”

Time passed in a blur for Harley, who couldn’t help but stare at his lab partner, on the ground. He didn’t even notice as they removed his lifeless body, the image too brightly burned into his eyes that he couldn’t tell reality from fiction.

A familiar sound tore Harley from his daze, the sound of repulsors, as Tony strode into the room in his Iron Man suit. His eyes surveyed the library, landing on Harley still frozen on the ground. He pulled him up harshly, staring at the pool of blood beside where the boy was sitting, before placing one hand around his back and marching him away from the scene. They walked in silence until they reached the school courtyard, traffic blocked as ambulances and police cars shut down the area.

“You alright, buddy?” Tony asked, dropping his hand to gently reach up and touch his smarting face.

Harley nodded numbly.

“Well, you continue to surprise me, Harley. I show up, expecting to have to take down some super villain, and I stopped by some regular ol' Joe of a police officer telling me I’m not needed, that my _kid_ was stupid enough to try and take down a shooter. Thank Thor it worked,” Tony breathed in relief as he pulled him in for a tight hug. Harley grunted as the hard metal pressed against his stomach.

Tony pushed away, suddenly furious. “Don’t you ever, EVER, play hero again. You hear me?”

Shocked out of his silence, Harley retorted. “As if you can talk, old man.”

“Excuse me.” He gaped, before running his hand through his hair. He tapped at his arm, his Iron Man suit folding down to reveal Tony in a black suit. “Jesus, the two of you are going to be the death of me. I already gotta worry about one reckless teen, now you’ve decided to add your stupidity into the mix, and right now, I’m trying to worry about the two of you at the same time and I don’t think I’m going to make it. You’re going to run my arc reactor down 40 lifetimes.”

Tony fidgeted as Harley tried for formulate a response in his confusion. He continued, the rambling distracting him from his nerves. “Christ, I get one alert saying you’re playing footsie with a gun man, another saying Peter’s bleeding out at school from a seizure-”

“Wha-?”

“We’re going, right now, back to the compound. Peter and Happy will meet us there.”

As if summoned, a familiar black car pulled up a short distance from the school, the closest it could with the barricades.

“Dammit, Happy,” Tony muttered.

Peter stumbled out of the vehicle, Happy only moments behind him.

“What the-” Harley started for the second time, as Peter made his way towards them, blood smeared across his face and clothes. Even from a distance Harley could see the dark circles under his eyes, his face pale, and the small pace between the two seemed to be an effort for Peter.

“Harley,” he croaked as he neared.

Peter collapsed.

Happy raced forward to catch him under his armpits, holding him upright as Peter remained unconscious.

“Alright, we’re done here. Get him in the car.” Tony snapped his fingers, not far behind Harley. He moved back to the courtyard to the teachers and the police, gesturing at Harley as he did so, before joining them to lift Peter into the car.

“In you get, Harley. You can talk to the police later, let’s get you home.”

Tony moved in first, sliding to the other end of the car as he motioned for Harley to follow. Harley sat. “Seat belt on,” Tony grunted, as he reached over to pull Peter into the car by his ankles, Happy still holding his upper half up. “On his side,” Tony spoke again, rolling Peter onto his right, his knees bent a little to fit his small frame into the car. His head landed in Harley’s lap, breathing softly. He tried to run his hands through his hair but it was sticky with blood and Harley could see the edges of a raw wound through the curls.

“I told you to keep him out of this, Hap,” Tony snapped.

“I tried Boss, I did," Happy said as he slid into the driver's seat. "But it was upsetting him, he was- I think it was making it worse. The bleeding, his head, started up again and I think he might have stopped breathing for a bit.”

Soft sounds escaped Peter’s mind as he came into consciousness once again.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” Harley murmured as Peter rolled his head to look up, confused.

“What happened?”

“I could ask the same to you,” Harley gestured down to Peter's face and clothing, soaked in blood. Peter followed his gaze, noticing Tony by his feet.

“Oh, hey.”

“Don’t hey me. We should be doing this at the Med-Bay, not some car you hijacked.”

“That’s my boy,” Harley whispered as he soldiered on, hands brushing though the curls not coated in blood.

Peter grinned devilishly in response, letting his eyes droop shut.

For once, Happy drove slowly and carefully, after the first slammed brakes and honk caused Peter to cry out in pain, Haley’s fingers tightening in Peter’s sweat shirt at the noise. They made it to the compound with no further cries, but moving Peter into the Med-Bay to his favourite bed caused a few escaped whimpers. 

Tony’s lips pressed together. Peter, having sensed it, spoke up. “I’m fine, I’m just tired,” he said unconvincingly.

“And a terrible liar,” Tony chuckled, as he reached forward to touch Peter’s hand. “It’s a wonder the whole world doesn’t know that you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter looked to Harley for backup, but the boy just shrugged in agreement.

The time it took them to navigate through New York to the compound meant that Doctor Cho strode in less than an hour of fitful sleep for Peter later.

“Alright, who’s first?” She asked as she came into view.

Tony closed his eyes, and Harley knew he was hesitant to have choose between Harley or Peter first for the second time that day.

So he made the decision for him. “I’m fine. I’ve taken worse hits back in Tennessee. Help Peter.”

Tony wouldn’t meet Harley’s eyes.

Harley had to wake Peter, gently shaking his shoulder. “Doc’s here. She’s going to take a look at you.” Peter nodded, sitting up in bed.

“Harley, go call your mum before she finds out.”

Harley shook his head. “I’ll text her later.”

“Like hell you will. Go, now. This might take a while anyway.”

Harley didn’t budge.

“Go. Now. Or you’re out of the lab for a week.”

Harley sighed as Peter spoke. “I’m fine, Harley, I promise. But you won’t be if you don’t call your mum.”

Resigned, Harley squeezed Peter’s hand as he walked away.

The phone call took longer than he expected. His mother was hysterical- that he had expected. By the time he managed to calm her down and promised that Tony would call her later, Cho had gotten what she needed from Peter. His arms folded, Tony turned to Harley as he entered the room, Helen finalising her talk with Peter.

“I’d like to run a few more tests tomorrow, but for now, you need a shower, dinner and a good night’s sleep.”

At Harley’s entrance, it was Peter’s turn to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Parker,” Harley sighed as Peter hopped off the bed. “Just not gonna look so pretty for a few days with this shiner.” Much like Harley, he made no move to separate himself from his friend.

“Go shower, you look like shit,” he smirked at Peter.

But Peter didn’t smile back, not convinced. 

“Go on, kiddo. Your aunt’s on her way, best not for her to see you looking like this,” Tony reminded him.

It was the fear of May that propelled Peter’s feet forward, one last glance back at Harley as he walked.

“Do I even want to ask how you got this bruise,” Helen sighed as Harley took Peter’s spot.

“You should see the other guy,” Harley mouthed, causing Tony to jerk.

“Shirt and pants off, we’re doing a full check.” Harley protested, but she continued. “What, would you tell me if there was anything I’d missed? I didn’t think so,” she smirked herself, as he glowered at her.

Removing his shirt was more difficult than he imagined it would be, his ribs and lower torso aching more now that his thoughts weren’t distracted by Peter or his screaming mama. He hissed as the fabric grazed his cheek, and then once more as the doctor poked at his tender skin.

“Luckily, it mostly seems to be a bit of bruising. Nothing’s broken, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt. I’ll do an ultrasound tomorrow to be sure, but in the meantime, same as Peter. Dinner, shower, a good night’s rest and lucky for you, you can take some paracetamol for the pain. If it gets worse though, if breathing hurts, or you notice any blood, especially when peeing, you tell someone immediately. Understand?”

Harley nodded slightly.

“I’ll make F.R.I.D.A.Y film you peeing kid if you’re not going to best smart about this, Harley,” Tony warned.

“Yes, okay, fine. Haggard old perv, how did you ever get guardianship?" He muttered. "Can I go now?” He snapped, suddenly at his limit with the day.

They seemed to understand.

“There’s leftovers in the kitchen,” Tony called after him.

Harley made his way there first, hoping a full belly would dampen his worsening mood. 

It didn’t. Mostly, it hurt to chew, his stomach ached where his filling belly pushed against his bruised skin, and the rich meal combined with the events of the day made him feel nauseous. He gave up with a sigh, moving towards the shower instead. He moved past the lounge where Peter and May were talking quietly, but continued on, suddenly desperate to be alone. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself in the shower.

Not caring about Tony’s hot water bill, Harley stood under the jet of water for close to an hour. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed that any time had passed at all, but staring at his pale, wrinkled hands, he decided to move on before someone came to remove his naked body from the shower for him, adding embarrassment to his terrible day.

Changing slowly, and carefully to avoid his bruises, he grabbed two pain tablets from the bathroom cabinet and swallowed them dry. He picked up his dirty clothes, before returning to the cabinet to take the whole bottle with him.

He jumped as he exited the bathroom door, to find Peter sitting outside, back pressed opposite to where the shower head would be on the other side.

“Have you out been here the whole time?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

Peter nodded. Having showered, his nose and head wound were both clean and already healing. Eyes still closed, he said quietly, “I wanted to hear your heartbeat.”

“Creepy,” Harley said simply as he walked away to his own room. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but that comment from Peter tugged at his heart, and for the first time in along time, perhaps the day he had left Rose Hill, he felt a sting of tears in his eyes.

He left his door slightly ajar as he entered his room, still unsure if he wanted Peter to follow. The choice wasn’t his, as Peter slipped in behind him, shutting it quietly.

“You don’t have to stay,” Harley said, his face impassive as he stared at his dirty clothes. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his previous bravado suddenly washed down the drain in the comfort of his own room. He moved to his clothes basket, but turned suddenly, before throwing his uniform in the bin by his desk.

“I know,” Peter replied as he slipped into Harley’s bed, taking the side next to the wall. Harley stared for a moment as it occurred to him that he’d never seen Peter in his bed before, only ever falling asleep together on a couch with a movie or PlayStation game forgotten in the background. The morning after was always awkward, as some of their limbs always managed to tangle together in the night, his favourite part, but it was always left undiscussed. “Which side do you sleep on?”

Harley shrugged, avoiding the other teens eyes as he crawled in next to him. He wanted to face away from Peter but there was a large bruise on his side stopping him, so he opted to lay on his back, throwing his left arm up to cover his face from the light. He kept it there, even after Peter asked Friday to turn them down, trying to control the slight shudder in his breathing, his quickening heart beat that he knew Peter could hear.

“I’m fine,” Harley exhaled as Peter wrapped his arms around his free bicep, clinging to him like a koala. He snuggled his head in to rest on Harley’s shoulder. The touch comforted him, but it also made him feel more vulnerable than he ever had, his emotions rapidly rising to the surface

“I’m not. I’ve never been so scared for someone, Harley. That was awful.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Harley didn’t see Peter’s eyebrows furrow as he unwrapped his arms from Harley’s, but he felt him prop himself up onto his elbow. “Why not?”

Harley shrugged again, now that Peter’s face wasn’t in the way of his shoulder. Talking about Peter distracted him from his own emotions, and he was momentarily grateful. “I’ve never seen you scared before.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re Spider-Man."

“Why do you think I wear the mask?

Harley snorted for a moment at the terrible joke. The moment passed and Harley’s snort turned into a sob. He threw his other arm up over his face in despair.

“Oh, Harley,” Peter murmured as he lay back down, rolling Harley over onto his chest as he did so. He gently pulled Harley’s arms off his face so he could lay his unbruised cheek onto Peter's body, wrapping his own arms around him securely in a tight grip.

Harley only cried for a moment before choking out, “How do you do it? Fight people all the time? How are you not terrified?”

“I am terrified, all the time. My heart hurts even now, thinking about some of the things I’ve seen, that I've had to do. But I can’t let that stop me. I can’t let other people get hurt, not when I can do something about it.”

But that only made Harley wail harder. Peter obviously didn’t think, or could think of anything that needed to be said, so he just let him, rubbing his arms up and down Harley’s back, shushing a little as his cries continued on.

“Sorry. Stupid,” Harley said as he wiped his nose with his hand.

"It's not stupid."

"I got your shirt wet.” 

“It is stupid if that’s what you’re worried about,” Peter tightened his grip as Harley tried to pull away. He paused a moment, waiting for Harley to relax back into his chest, before continuing on. “Harley, some of your friends died today. You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to be upset even if no one got hurt. You’re allowed to be upset that someone put you in a situation where you had to risk your own life like that and you got hurt in the process. You’re allowed to be upset even if you accidentally had to help people. You’re actually even allowed to be upset for no good reason, you know.” He wiped tears off Harley’s bruised cheek with a tender thumb.

Harley took one last sob before swallowing it down, breath shuddering again as he did. But he nodded, falling asleep to the motion of Peter soothing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a shooting at Harley’s school, and Harley, every so loveable, and STUPID, manages to knock the shooter down long enough for help to get there. In the process, he gets punched one in the jaw and five times to his stomach.


	3. Sorry about the blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for deciding to read my incredibly long chapters of my incredibly ridiculous story. Fanfic, ammiright?

“You sure you’re ready for this, Underoos?” Tony asked, tapping Peter’s knee as they pulled up to Mid-Town Tech the following Monday.

Peter nodded, noting the nickname used to calm his nerves in the airport battle or occasionally on a rough patrol.

“It’s been less than a week. Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Mister Stark," he sighed. "It’s just high school.”

“High school is a battle, kid. Especially when you're dealing with a lot of other crap right now." He paused, leaning in slightly, concern evident on his face. "This is the longest you’ve been away from Harley in a few days. You barely even let him go to the bathroom by himself,” Tony pointed out, but kindly.

Peter paled, not wanting to tell Tony that he had actually followed Harley to the bathroom. One more than one occasion. “A little space is healthy, right?” He attempted to joke.

"Are you sure you're good?"

"I told you, I've felt fine since it happened. I don't know whatever that was last week, but it's gone now. I'm fine," he insisted.

“Alright then,” he said as he reached over Peter to open the door. “Happy, do a block. Pick me up a coffee and donut while you wait?” He said, not really a question, pushing Peter out the door.

“No, Mister Stark, you don’t have to walk me in. I'm good,” Peter spoke as Tony followed him out.

“Nice try.” He strode ahead.

“Please, sir, you really don’t have to. I’m fine. I’ve been getting to class all these years by myself, you know.”

“I actually have a meeting,” Tony said, causing Peter to stutter. “Now are you going to show me the way to the Principal’s office or should I just try every door until I find it?” He called back.

Peter only stared in horror as student’s started to whisper, phones appearing to point at Tony.

“No, no, I’m coming. It’s this way.” He pulled Tony through a door, reasoning the quicker he got him out of sight, the less embarrassment he might face.

“Why are you even doing this?” Peter muttered as they walked into the office.

“I told you, I’ve got a meeting. With your teachers,” he said to Peter’s confused look. “Got a few protocols to put in place in case we have another little incident.”

Peter only groaned again as they neared the receptionist’s desk. She looked up at him for a moment, opening her mouth to question, but quickly closed it as she looked to Tony.

“Oh yes, you’re here. Go through to the staff room, everyone is waiting.”

“Everyone?!” Peter gasped, as Tony pushed him through to the door she had gestured to.

“Stay cool, Roos. I’ll do all the talking,” he said as he gripped both of Peter’s shoulders reassuringly.

It turned out that everyone _actually_ meant everyone. Every teacher that even stepped foot at Mid-Town was crammed into the teacher’s lounge, and as Peter’s eyes skimmed the room, he saw Ned, MJ and Betty squashed together on a couch.

He felt the heat begin to rise in his cheeks as Mr Morita spoke.

“How are you feeling, Peter?” He asked gently.

“I’m fine, honestly, we don’t need to do this,” he stammered, but his principal raised a hand to stop him.

“You’re a trooper, Peter, and I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t inconveniencing anyone. We just need to make sure we do everything we can to keep you safe while learning.” He turned to address the small crowd. “Mr Stark here has asked us here to make us aware of his, uh, condition, which is Peter’s alone to discuss, should he like. All we need to know is the procedure to follow if anything were to happen again. Mr Stark, if you would like to take over?”

“Hmmm? Oh yes,” he said, momentarily distracted by his surroundings. No doubt he was thinking of redecorating. “Hopefully not, but should young Peter here become unwell, his doctor has prepared a list of instructions. No negotiations or deviations, these need to be followed.”

Mr Morita started handing out sheets of paper. Peter grabbed one and read it, drowning out Tony’s explanation as he did so.  
  
 _Care Plan: Peter Parker, Junior_

_Should Peter become unwell the following procedure must be adhered to irregardless of the situation (inclusive of, but not limited to, general first aid, symptoms of illness, bleeding, seizing or unconsciousness)._

  1. _Call Tony Stark or Helen Cho immediately (details listed below)._
  2. _Remove Peter from the situation._
  3. _Lie him in a recovering position._
  4. _Remove excessive clothing._
  5. _Apply a shock blanket._
  6. _Limit noise, light, communication and information._
  7. _Limit people in the situation to one of the following: Ned, MJ or Betty and one supervising teacher._
  8. _Write down exact details of the situation, including events leading up to the incident, to be given to Tony or Helen at time of pick up._



Peter stared at the list, confused at the dramatics. This was what Tony would do at the compound for a sensory overload. It calmed him, sure, but it probably wouldn't stop a seizure or a black out. 

“Are there any symptoms? Anything we should watch out for, just to be prepared?” His home room teacher asked.

“At this stage, we’re still working through all that. Mostly, any sort of out of character behaviour. Pete’s not likely to speak up himself, but his friends might be able to keep an eye on him and spot if he's a bit off. That’s why I asked them here as well, and it’s important to listen to them if they have any concerns.” He gestured at Ned, MJ and Betty, who nodded in return.

“Where do we get a shock blanket from? Can we just use a blanket or extra sweaters if we can’t find one?”

“Mr Stark has provided specialised blankets to the school. There is one in every classroom, regardless of whether or not Peter has a class in it, one in the cafeteria, in the gymnasium, the athletics shed and the library.”

“It has to be my Stark shockies,” Tony added. “Unfortunately, Peter’s condition makes his skin very sensitive, so these will cause the least amount of irritation. I’ve also added basic medical technology into the fibers so we can track Peter’s vitals, giving us more information, meaning quicker treatment.”

“We have our term testing tomorrow for gym class, is Parker allowed to participate? I can give him a non-attendance for medical reasons but it will slightly affect his overall grade.”

“No need, I’ve got clearance from Dr Cho for physical activity.” Tony said, his eyes twinkling as he winked at Peter. Even at his worst, Peter would smash any high school physical test. Not that he would. But he could. “I’m sure he’ll be in fine form tomorrow, Coach.”

Peter sighed.

The bell signaled first class, and luckily for Peter, also the end of the meeting.

“Do you mind if I hold Pete back for a bit?”

“Of course,” his home room teacher smiled as she passed Tony and Peter, squeezing his arm gently as she did. “Take your time.”

They waited for the room to clear, his friend waving at him as they left, before Tony spoke again.

“Come on, you can let me have it as I walk you to class.”

“I’ve got to get to my locker first,” Peter said.

“Lead the way.”

Despite Tony’s words, the walk was silent. It wasn’t until Peter had grabbed the books he needed before he slammed his locker door shut, a little too forcefully as it buckled slightly.

Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Is all this really necessary, Mister Stark?”

“I’m afraid so, kiddo.”

“But why?” He asked, struggling to keep his voice down. “I mean, you’ve seen worse. You know I can handle worse- broken bones, knife wounds, concussions. I even came to Cho with a bullet wound and you weren’t even this worked up! I mean you yelled a bit, and you told May, which was not cool, but you didn't make a list or care plan.”

“Don’t you get it? That’s the whole point. Those things, we know what they are, and we know how to treat it, even with all your extra bits. This, I’ve got no clue. Heck, Helen is pulling her hair out and even Banner’s bamboozled.” Peter opened his mouth, but Tony continued. “Honestly, it’s scaring me. And your aunt won't say it, but she’s terrified too. We don’t know why it’s happening, if it's going to happen again, and if it could get worse. With your luck, I have no doubt of any of those, that’s for sure.” He paused, Peter’s mouth still open and he recognised the signs of a retaliation. “Harley’s lost enough friends this past week, Pete, I can’t have him lose another.”

Peter pursed his lips, annoyed that Tony had played all three emotional trump cards at once, but arguing with that would make him look and feel like a jerk.

“Just, please, please, just work with us on this one.”

Peter nodded, suddenly desperate to be out of Tony’s company.

“Alright, now off to class. You’ve missed enough lessons already. Happy will see you after school. No buts,” he said as Peter once again opened his mouth. “No public transport, not until we work this out.”

Tony saved him a response by walking away.

Peter decided to skip what was left of home class, instead waiting the few minutes left outside his first period. Despite being early, he entered the classroom at the last minute, Ned having run from across the other side of the school.

“You cool, dude?”

“Yeah,” Peter said as they walked in together, taking their usual seats.

“Hey, that was hectic back there,” Ned said as he pulled out his books, the rest of the class also talking as the teacher prepared. “But don’t worry, Betty’s already made us memorise the care plan and both the phone numbers. She’s sorting out a rotating roster so one of us can always walk you to class, even the ones we’re not in,” he added proudly. 

Peter groaned, half at Ned's crush, and half in despair. “It’s so embarrassing,” he said, thumping his head forward onto his desk.

“It’s fine Peter. Heaps of people have them.”

“No, Ned, they don’t.”

“Yeah they do, like the peanut kids.”

“This isn’t an allergy,” he hissed at his friend.

“Plus,” Ned continued, ignoring him. “You got walked to school by _Tony Stark_. And he made you a caring plan!”

“That’s the most embarrassing part,” he groaned again. “The whole school is talking about it.”

“I’m sure they’re not-”

“I can hear them,” Peter snapped, and the class began.

Peter had a feeling that his teachers had forbidden his classmates from asking questions, but he didn't need an extra sense to feel their burning eyes on the back of his head throughout class. He tried to block out the whispers as the school day went on, but not for the first time, he damned his super hearing.

_“That was Tony Stark. In the middle of Mid-Town.”  
_

_“Why are you so surprised dude, Parker has that internship with him, remember.”  
_

_“Yeah, but Flash always said that was a lie. I dunno, I kinda thought it was too.”  
_

_“Guess you were wrong then.”  
_

_“Even so, man, how many bosses do you know that will drop their interns off to work? I thought Stark interns just worked in, like departments and stuff, not actually with Tony Stark himself.”  
_

_“I heard that Tony called him straight up when he collapsed the first time.”  
_

_“Yeah, I was there, his face just like, appeared in the middle of the classroom. He was in his Iron Man suit.”  
_

_“I saw the care plan. If it happens again, the first person you’re meant to call is Stark. Not even an ambulance.”  
_

_“That’s wild!”_

Desperate for any sort of normalcy, Peter tried unsuccessfully to find the one person who wouldn’t treat him like he was made of glass. But Flash, besides from sitting silently a few rows back in their shared chemistry and physics classes, was not to be seen the rest of the day. At his wit’s as the final bell rang, he waited down the hallway near Flash’s locker, but on seeing Peter walk towards him, Flash quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom. Not wanting to be creepy, Peter sighed and walked out of the schoolyard, sighing again as students pointed animatedly at the fancy black car parked right in front of the school entrance. Much to his dismay, Happy opened the door for him as he neared.

Happy entered the driver’s seat, but before he could ask about Peter’s day, the boy grumbled, “Did you really have to do with the sunglasses? This isn’t Men In Black, you know.”

Happy laughed. “Tony wants you back at the compound while your aunt’s on night shift,” he said before indicating into traffic, the rest of the trip was spent in silence. Peter chewed gratefully on the snacks Tony had thoughtfully provided.

When they reached the compound, Peter debated between finding Harley and doing his homework. It was an easy competition.

“F.R.I, where’s Harley?” 

“He left the compound with his mother shortly before lunchtime to attend the memorial. I believe they will not return until after Ms Keener’s flight later this evening.”

“Ah." A little guiltily, Peter had forgotten about the ceremony. He guessed Harley's day would have been worse than his. "Where’s Mister Stark?” He asked out of pure curiosity.

“He appears to be making his way to the medical office where Doctor Cho is analysing your results. Would you like me to let him know that you are here?”

“No, that’s alright, I was just wondering.”

Deciion made that he didn’t really want to start on his homework just yet, he moved into the hallway, to find the vent he was looking for. He knew that the A.I wouldn’t tell on him unless specifically requested by Tony, he moved silently through the airways until he reached those overhead of the Med-Bay, a vent allowing him to view the room below where Tony and Helen stood.

“Has Harley ever been hurt before?” Doctor Cho asked.

Tony frowned. “I’m not sure. Not since coming to New York, I think. Not that I know about, at least.”

Helen hummed in response.

“My god, you’re killing me. What’s up?”

She held up two ultrasounds to her light board. “See these areas?” She pointed to the same areas in the two pictures. “The colour difference indicates inflammation and bruising, both bone bruises and soft tissue bruising.” She pointed to 5 spots on the first slide, then another 5 in the same spots on the second.

“And?”

She looked at him. “They’re different results, Tony. This is Harley’s,” she pointed, “and this is Peter’s.”

Tony frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Cho sighed and pulled up two more pictures, one of Peter’s abdomen, and one of Harley’s. The latter sported painful bruises, an ugly painting of black and blue across his torso. On Peter’s picture, the skin was clear and even, but large drawn on red circles marked the same areas as Harley’s wounds. “Peter’s been complaining of rib and lower stomach pain for a few days now. He’s never before had bruises for this long, not even when he fell 8 stories onto the car and his entire back was black. He doesn’t normally even complain. But I asked him to circle where it hurt, and this was where he identified. He’s also been favouring one side of his mouth as he chews, similar to Harley.”

Tony let that sink in. “I mean, I understand. But I don’t understand.”

“Me either. But the student reports say that Peter seized 6 times, and Harley got punched six times. Same pain, same place." 

Tony stared back at the pictures.

“You got anything else for me?"

"Other than that, Peter seems perfectly healthy. Everything's running normally, well, normal for him."

"Have you let Banner know?"

Helen nodded. "He's working on a few theories, but I don't think he's 100% sure either."

Tony looked at his watch. "Alright, send what you've got through to me. Between the three of us, we should be able to work it out. Kid should be here already," he mumbled.

Peter crawled away, not wanting to be caught in such a compromising situation. He hadn't even thought of a good alibi if he was. Not that he could even sell them, half the time. He frowned slightly as he crawled away from the room, but his fear of Tony finding out he was hiding in an air conditioning vent pushed the knowledge out of his head. It wasn't until later that night, mid Mario Kart with Harley, that he thought about it.

"How are you feeling, Harley?"

Tongue sticking out between his teeth in concentration, he replied. "Don't coddle me, Parker. Mama did enough of that today."

"No, not the memorial," Peter went on as Harley jerked the controller. "Your ribs, I meant."

"Oh," Harley frowned. "Fine, I guess."

It was Peter's turn to frown. His still throbbed, though he'd done nothing to them, nor even had a mark to show for them.

Concentrating, he heard the slight jump in Harley's' heartbeat. A lie.

"If they're still hurting Harley, you don't have to pretend. Just take some pain medication, and be grateful that you can."

Something flickered across Harley's face, too quick for Peter to catch. "Honestly, they feel fine. Can't feel em, hope I still have them."

Another lie.

Harley stared back defiantly. "I win," he said, not looking at the screen. "It's tiring, being so perfect at everything. I'm going to bed."

Peter's eyes followed him out, before he headed off himself to his own room. The bed was comfortable, and the room offered everything his apartment in Queens did, he still he didn’t sleep well that night, without Harley, his brain working through the day. The next morning, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone mull on his thoughts from the night before, as he pulled on his sports uniform for testing that day.

Having spent the days since "the incident", as Tony was calling both the boys events on Wednesday, with Harley at the compound, in his room, in his bed, he hadn't had a chance to properly catch up with Ned. His head pounded as he recognised the familiar signs of a breakdown coming on, knowing he needed to vent some of his feelings to his best friend before he had an emotional outburst. They usually happened in the most inconvenient of public places, with Flash bringing them up on occasion. He gave Ned a pointed look as they entered the gym, but Coach's call for warm up stopped any sort of therapeutic discussion.

Pete signed. It wasn’t that he hated exercise, he’d just always felt better reading or building things, and pre-bite he’d never been coordinated or able to go long enough without a puffer to actually enjoy any organised sports. And now, if it didn’t hold the same exhilaration as swinging from skyscraper to skyscraper, Peter just didn’t care for it. That, combined with the increasingly loud pounding in his head, Peter started to struggle shortly after the first task begun.

“You good, Parker?” Coach barked, whistle perched between his teeth.

Every junior at Mid-Town turned to look at him.

“I’m fine,’ he said through gritted teeth. He just wanted this over with.

Understanding Harley's lie the night before, he composed his face to hopefully hide his response to his headache. And his ribs, which were really starting to get on his nerves. He hadn’t even done anything to hurt them, that he was sure of, and even if he had, they'd never take this long to heal. Harley had, but the more he thought on it, the weirder that seemed.

“Are you sure, Peter?” Ned said as he slid up to him. “You do like kinda, uh, worse than usual.”

Peter shot his friend a frustrated look. He was a bit anxious, he noted now, it wasn’t just the exercise that had his heart racing. But still, he nodded. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell anyone, they were already fussing over him and he definitely didn’t need a reason to pull out the stupid care plan in front of his entire year level.

“You could like, pretend? And I’ll be your friend, we can both skip the assessment. It wont even affect your GPA much, you're like top of every class, and honestly I'm willing to take the fall to skip this torture. We can go eat popsicles in the nurses office instead, and you can introduce me to Mr Stark properly.”

He went to shoot another frustrated look at Ned, but his head swam with a wave of nausea with the effort of moving his neck. He tried to swallow but his throat was suddenly incredibly dry, causing him to choke a little with the effort **.**

“Uh, Coach? I don’t think Peter is okay?” He heard Ned call out.

The whistle blew, a piercing arrow through one of Peter’s ears, through his brain and out the other, as he saw his classmates stop and his Coach walked towards him, arms outstretched. His mouth was moving as he did, but whatever the whistle had done had robbed Peter of his hearing. 

Once again, Peter felt a horrible snap in the middle of his chest.

“Oh,” he said simply, before dropping to the ground.

This time, Ned was close enough to catch him, protecting his head as he lay him down slowly.

The coach pulled out his cell phone and passed it to a nearby student. “Call Tony Stark.” He ordered. “Ned, roll him to his side, and step away,” as they waited for a seizure. “Sam, turn the lights off. Everyone else, go sit on the bleachers and don’t make any noise.”

As the lights dimmed, Peter came to.

“Stay down, Peter. Tony’s on his way,” Ned said as he hung up. Peter ignored him, rolling onto all fours, bringing his opposite hand up to clutch at his phantom rib pain. He coughed once, a splatter of blood landed in front of him.

“Oh,” he said again, allowing Ned to gently push him back down onto his side. Betty ran up with the shock blanket, unfurling it as she reached Peter. She looked to the Coach and he nodded, she lay it over a disgruntled Peter.

He closed his eyes as she did so. Partly to shut out the concerned looks from his classmates, but Peter found it did actually help with his unease. The nausea and headache from before had faded, but his chest ached where he felt the inexplicable pain, and his ribs throbbed. \And, although he’d never admit to Mr Stark, having his senses taken care of whilst still human, made such a difference.

When Tony entered the gymnasium, Peter sat up suddenly with a thought.

“Harley?” He asked, gripping Tony’s arm as his mentor neared.

“He’s fine,” Tony frowned. “At school. Why?”

“Are you sure?”

“You think I'm not keeping tabs? Of course I’m sure.”

He nodded breathlessly as Tony hoisted him to his feet, hoping to lead him out of the gymnasium. The tension in his heart eased a little, only to be replaced by a gnawing thought. If Harley was fine, not like last week, maybe there actually was something wrong with him.

Peter tripped over the shock blanket as it wrapped around his feet. Tony’s face set, he turned and crouched, grabbing under Peter’s thighs, causing him to fall forward onto a half piggy back. He tightened as Peter pushed away.

“Please put me down,” Peter whispered, mortified.

“It’s this, bridal style or I wrap you in this shock blanket and pull you out of here in a body bag. Your choice.”

Peter moaned slightly as he buried his head into Tony's neck as moved forward, unperturbed by the weight. Not because Peter was embarrassed, he found, but rather to hide his eyes in case the tears that were brimming threatened to spill over. The position tugged at his already aching heart with the memory of Ben, long ago, carrying him through a park in the same manner. The last person to hold him like this.

Tony gave a rough salute to the gym class as they left. “Sorry about the blood,” he called out cheerfully.

Peter ignored him, lost in his own head, as they drove out of the school gates, and to the compound, answering the Doctor’s questions robotically as she checked him over before prescribing a nap. Ignoring the concerned looks between the two adults, Peter slid off the bed and towards his room.

As the room switched to Peter mode, he easily drifted off to sleep, grateful to be catching up from the night before.


	4. Tweedle Dumb and Dumber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for mentions of self harm behaviours and minor flashbacks including mentions of death and guns so please only read if you're comfortable!

“How was your first day back?” Tony asked Harley, a little too nonchalantly as he entered the room.

“Yeah, fine. You know, another day, another no more dollars,” he said as he slung his bag onto the counter top, moving towards the fridge out of habit.

“You sure? Nothing happen?” Tony eyed Harley, small disbelief in his voice.

“Hmmm,” Harley said, not meeting Tony’s gaze, reaching into the fridge instead. “It’s Tuesday,” he continued, changing the subject. “Pete coming to the lab?”

“Uh,” he said, grimacing. “About that. He had another, um, god we gotta get a name for it, attack?”

“What?” Harley said, suddenly snapping upright. “Is he okay? Is he here?”

“He’s fine. Bit his tongue, a little blood, tired and he’s complaining of sore ribs for some reason,” Harley winced in sympathy, still frozen with one hand reached inside the cool door. “But other than that, according to Cho he’s fit as a fiddle. Bruce is coming by later to see what he can do.”

Abandoning the fridge, Harley moved in the direction of the Med-Bay. He slung his bag back over the shoulder removing the evidence from Tony's eyes.

“He’s asleep, Harley.”

“Don’t care.” He moved out of the room, stopping in the doorway. “Tony?”

He turned back to find Tony staring at him.

“Why’d you call the school?”

“How’d you find out?”

“I have my ways,” Harley shrugged.

“No reason,” Tony replied, simply. Harley, confused, but more eager to see Peter, shook his head and continued on his path.

He slipped into the Med-Bay, his heart sinking as he saw Peter asleep on the bed. He looked so small under the sheets, dark circles under his eyes as he breathed evenly. Harley took a seat, trying to steady his own breath as he did so. Alone with Peter, who looked so vulnerable, he too felt his cocky exterior fade away. He was surprised by the tear that streamed down his cheek, considering the numbness he was feeling. That’d he’d been feeling since he’d stared at Todd, still, bleeding, he blood soaking the carpet, his shoes-

Harley stopped it with just his will, building up a damn wall and soldering it shut.

It wasn’t the first time that day he’d had to control himself like that.

Harley found it ridiculous, the way everyone was fussing over him since last Wednesday, grateful a little that they seemed to be fussing over Peter almost as much. In the days that passed, he and Peter managed to escape the adults' concerns by finding solace with each other, Peter admitting that they were suffocating him and for no good reason. Harley had pointed out that for no apparent reason his friend had blacked out and seized, despite not having so much as a cold since the spider bite. Peter countered with Harley bruising several ribs and watching his friends get shot, so they left it at that, Harley tight lipped.

Truthfully, he wasn’t fine. He was far from fine.

Harley hadn’t cried since falling asleep on Peter’s chest that first night, and for that he was glad. Lying alone with Peter, the waves emotion he felt was unlike any other. They drowned him, pushing him to the bottom of the sea floor, lungs bursting, Peter's grip failing to pull him up. He silently screamed for it to stop, bubbles flying high as he remained trapped in the dark abyss. He was fitful as Peter fell asleep. Exhausted from his own ordeal, Peter slept soundly through his distress, his tight grip even in his sleep locking Harley into a cage, locking him in with his nightmares, or his reality. Harley couldn't tell which was which. Head still pressed against Peter's warm chest, he felt Peter's hands stroking his hair softly as dawn peered through.

By then, Harley’s wish had come true. Like a switched had been flipped, he found he didn’t care about anything at all.

He knew, logically, that the nimble fingers running though his hair felt nice, that it was _Peter_ and his heart would normally be racing at the contact, nay, even the thought of Peter in his bed. But his heart said nothing. As the day passed, Harley tested his attachment to people, to things, and noted a no result with each experiment. Craving an escape from Peter’s constant look of concern, he’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom, not entirely unsure Peter wasn’t a few steps behind, where he could exhale in privacy. Fearful that Peter’s worry would reach Tony, he “hitched up his hankies”, as his mama would say and plastered on his trademark smirk. He was almost grateful for the familiar motion, having suppressed his emotions for years in Rose Hill, to get on with life as you did in a small country town. Harley was a master at covering up his true feelings with smart remarks or when desperate, his fists. But even then, he had actually felt the stirrings of emotion underneath all that, late at night admitting to himself that it was all an act. But this time, there was nothing. Peter willing to follow him wherever, he set the two boys to mindless tasks that could make Harley appear busy on the surface with no time to talk or dwell on the issue.

He hadn’t accounted for what would happen when he had to go back to school.

He managed to keep his blase Harley face on for a total of 20 minutes, before the first bell rang, splintering his bravado in an instant. The outside pressure sucked the air from his lungs, ripping his sanctuary apart, Harley sure he was being pulled out of the plane and plummeting to the ground, with no Iron Man suit nor Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to save him. Voice steady, he’d managed to be excused to the bathroom. He raced to the nearest boy's room, gripping the sink tightly after he made sure the room was cleared. The tightening of his chest, so desperate for oxygen, was a dull fire in his otherwise senseless body, and suddenly, Harley was sick of it. Sick of being numb, sick of being helpless even to himself, wanting to be more like Peter, who wasn’t afraid to feel, to pour his emotions out. Emotions he didn’t feel towards Harley, because _surely_ he would have said something by now, or something would have been said for him, because he really was the world’s worst secret keeper. 

The silence was deafening. Worse than that first gunshot that robbed his hearing momentarily.

A gunshot.

It was all too much.

He dug wildly through his bag, not sure what he was looking for until he found it.

A stanley knife, used mostly for his Industrial Tech class, but now, would be handy in an alternate way.

He just wanted to feel something, _anything_. The dull burning in his lungs spurred him on, encouraging him gently, whispering that pain was a feeling, was the only feeling, pain could make it stop, could make it all be _over_ -

“Oh,” he breathed, as the voice nudged the knife into delicate skin. Noticing a small speck of blood, Harley released the knife in shock. It dropped to the bathroom floor as he released a dry sob.

He was okay, that wasn’t him, he would never, he- 

He wasn’t even strong enough to do that. 

Made sense. He wasn’t strong enough to stop James when he’d entered the room. Wasn’t strong enough to hold him down by himself. Wasn’t strong enough to move his feet quicker, maybe if he had Sarah, Todd, Jess, they’d-

He slid to the floor, shaking, his head in his hands, not even feeling guilty or sadness at his thoughts. As easily as the dawn with Peter, he slipped into a quiet shell of nothingness. This time, he welcomed it. 

“Harley?” Unsure how much time had passed, his thoughts were broken by a knock on the door. He recognised the voice of the school receptionist at the door. “Harley, are you in there? What are you doing?”

He shoved his belongings back into his back, looking once at his face in the mirror before exiting. He just looked like Harley, nothing to suggest what he’d tried, what he’d failed to do only moments, or perhaps an eternity, before. Nevertheless, he rearranged his features to look bored before scooping the knife into his bag.

“Just going to the bathroom, Miss,” he mouthed as he opened the door. “I have a hall pass?”

She nodded and it was then Harley noted the phone in her hands.

“Back to class then, if you’re finished,” she said as he walked away, bringing the phone up to her ear. He walked slowly, hoping to catch the voice on the other end.

“No, just in the bathroom, sir. Yes sir, on his way to class. Okay, thank you, Mr Stark.”

Frustrated that Tony had somehow picked up on his weakness, he resolved to be more careful, through the rest of the day, digging deep for his trademark sass and catching his reflection in as many shiny surfaces as possible to reassure no one but himself that his face was impassive. If he had been feeling anything, Harley would have felt proud that his mask only slipped just then, in front of Peter.

He lifted his sleeve carefully in the low light of the room, whistling air through his closed teeth as he saw a dot of blood clotted on his wrist. He rubbed it away, once again noting that had he been alright, he would be disappointed at the lack of mark that remained. Pulling the sleeve down in a rush as Tony entered, he saved the movement by flicking his arm over to look at the time, an hour since he’d been home.

“Will he go to school tomorrow, do you think?” Harley asked, slumping down in the seat, looking down at his hands as he laced them between his lap.

“I don’t think so.”

"Can I stay home too?”

Tony sighed as he took a seat beside Harley. “Man, I need to get new seats. They’re far too uncomfortable for the amount of time we’ve been spending here lately.” He said as he shifted his weight around. Unhappy with the response, Harley returned his stare to his hands. “Rough day?”

Harley stayed silent.

“Your mom seemed pretty convinced you were fine, buddy.”

“Yeah, she also doesn’t know the difference between petrol and diesel,” Harley closed his eyes with the exposing answer.

Tony nudged at Harley with his shoulder, leaning his weight in fully when the boy didn’t respond. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Harley just shrugged, enough to knock Tony’s weight off him.

“It’s not going to be easy Harley-”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted, lifting his chin in defiance.

“I don’t think you are.”

“I am, you’ve seen me,” Harley turned to Tony. “I was home all last week, what about that wasn’t fine?”

“What I saw was a boy who was trying to convince everyone that he was fine. I saw you in a comfortable setting, with people who care about you. With Peter,” he said as Harley turned away, crossing his arms. “But you’re going to have to go back to school, possibly to the library, and you’re not always going to have Peter with you to help you through it.”

"These chairs suck."

“Whatever you’re feeling right now, Harley, is a perfectly reasonable response to a traumatic experience. We can get someone to talk to-”

“I don’t need a shrink!"

His raised voice caused Peter to stir.

Leaning forward, simultaneously positioning his body to be nearer to Peter and away from Tony, Harley lowered his voice. “Morning, sunshine,” he greeted cheerfully, his shift in demeanor so sudden it shocked Tony into silence.

Peter hummed as he woke up fully before propping himself up.

“Hey,” he said to the pair, rubbing at his eyes “God, what’s the time?”

“5:30, champ. How’re you feeling?” Tony asked.

“Fine. Mostly hungry,” he admitted. Harley reached forward to his backpack, pulling out a muesli bar from his fully packed lunchbox, snapping it shut quickly as Tony eyed it suspiciously. He handed it to Peter who mumbled a thanks in response.

“I’ll bring dinner forward, you think you’ll be okay to wait an hour?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Mr Stark, truly,” he mumbled again, already tearing into the snack.

“Alighty then, I’ll leave you boys alone.”

“How are you really feeling?” Harley asked once Tony was well down the hall.

“I am fine, Harley. Honestly, it only hurts for a moment when it happens, then I’m totally good afterwards. I wouldn’t even say it hurts, its more just like, a release of pressure or something. I’ve taken worse as Spider-Man,” he promised. Pausing slightly, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

Harley stilled momentarily, as Peter, much like Tony, seemed to sense something was off. Or maybe he was still thinking back to last week, that the events should still be haunting him, that Harley was weak. 

Peter’s eyes flickered down Harley’s body. Willing himself not to pull at his sleeve again, he leaned further forward towards the bed, shielding most of his body from Peter’s gaze. “I’m peachy,” he insisted.

Peter eyed him. Aware that he should feel a little guilty, yet still felt nothing, he followed with the deliberate distraction. “Got homework?” Peter nodded.

He pulled his wall back up as the pair studied, adding blocks throughout dinner, closing them in on himself, even building a goddamned roof on the phone call to his sister.

Peter slipped into his bed that night, Harley now realising that he did indeed sleep on a particular side with another occupant present. He stared at the boy in his bed, unaware, memorising his soft features as they relaxed in the dark, wishing he too could sleep soundly through the night

Despite his previous not answering his question the day before, and waking Harley in time to make it to his first class on time, Tony didn’t raise an eyebrow as Harley walked into the kitchen just before noon the following day. He hadn't sleep, instead lay in bed staring at his roof and listening to the soothing rhythm of his friend’s breath. After 14 hours, he’d followed Peter’s lead to start the day. 

He slid onto the stool, rubbing at his eye with the palm of his hand hoping the pressure could push away his fatigue. At this, Tony did raise an eyebrow.

“Sleep well?” He asked. A simple question, but he knew Tony was prodding for more.

“Peter snores,” he replied.

“Peter does not snore,” the boy in mention defended as he entered the kitchen, also rubbing at his eyes. Harley raised his own brows at Tony as he noted the lack of concern at the similar movement. “Harley snores,” Peter teased as he slipped onto the bench next to him.

“Impossible,” Harley snorted. He wasn’t about to mention his newfound inability to sleep as the true reasoning, so instead he backed it with, “I have an impeccable nasal structure and airways. There’s no reason air cannot successfully enter into my body whilst I’m unconscious. I’m not sure you’d understand, but you see, I’m perfect even in my sleep.”

Peter stuck his tongue out at Harley, who snorted again. Peter laughed along with him, Harley remembering to match a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes quite like Peters.

Tony rolled the eyes as he pulled out the bread and carton of eggs. Reaching into a low shelf, he pulled out a frying pan.

“Shoot,” Tony swore as it slipped through his fingers.

It hit the tiles with a loud BANG.

Harley stilled, the beginnings of a chuckle caught in his throat as his face dropped. His breath caught in his throat in a familiar dry sob as his body froze, his arm mid-air.

Tony snapped upright and Peter’s own laughter quelled as their gazes fixed on Harley, concern evident.

“Harley?” Peter questioned, quietly, reaching one hand out towards his elbow.

“What,” he snapped at Peter, jerking away violently, the movement irritating his unhealed ribs. He stared in shock, before shaking it off with a shrug. “It just wasn’t that funny,” he continued.

They continued to stare at him, Harley aware that he was breathing heavily. Desperate for the attention to be directed elsewhere, he turned to Tony. “Are you going to wash that before you use it? I’m hungry. Scrambled, please.”

Tony and Peter shared a glance, but remained unspoken about the incident during breakfast. 

Harley was torn between not wanting to bring it up and having to look at Peter's wounded features as they washed the dishes. Sighing, aware that Tony was more likely to get involved if Peter looked like a kicked puppy all day, he apologised. “Sorry for snapping before.”

“It’s fine,” Peter said. “Are you sure-”

He hadn't thought that far ahead. Mind racing while trying to prepare a script, he cut Peter off. “Wanna try out that new web design today? You’ve been working on it for ages, might as well test it with the time off and Tony around.”

Peter pursed his lips. “I’m not sure my mind is in it today, Harley. I actually kinda wanted to talk to you.”

“How about a movie then,” he pushed on, biting his lip at the obvious segway.

“Alright,” Peter conceded. He sighed, drying the last dish before the pair moved into the lounge room.

Harley wasn’t sure what movie they ended up watching. As Peter’s weight shifted off the couch, Harley brought his attention back to the TV, frowning as the dark screen reflected the view of the room.

Peter returned a moment later, Tony in tow.

“Alright, no weaseling your way out of this one, kid. Talk to us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harley, you’ve been staring at the blank screen for 20 minutes.”

“It was a thought provoking film,” he grumbled. “I was mulling it over, like a fine wine. Not that I've tried wine," he added quickly.

“Harley,” Peter tried again. “We didn’t watch a movie.”

He frowned at Peter, his eyes purposely gliding over Tony, but he saw no lie on his face.

Unsure how to get out of this one, he sighed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not,” Tony pressed gently. “C’mon bud. What’s going through that head of yours. What are you feeling?”

“Nothing,” he said earnestly, because it was true. “I’m fine,” he added again, aware that he was in the presence of two very smart individuals who might understand the real meaning of his answer.

“Harley,” Tony pushed again, and as only Tony could do, managed to press the singular 'On' button in Harley.

“Why won’t you just LISTEN TO ME?” Harley screamed. 

He stood suddenly and moved away from the couch. Tony's meddling usually caused frustration in Harley, but this time, it just pushed his edges of his void wider. He tore at his hair with his hands, the same hands used to hold down James in the library, used to hold the knife the day before. The sensation was barely a tickle in his hollow state, but he knew what could give him what he do desperately needed. Desperate to answer their questions, to stop the concern, he whirled and punched the wall, the force drawing blood on his first hit. But still it wasn’t enough. There was no pain, not enough pain, so he kept punching, punching, until the splintering wood mixed with the splintering of his bones, indifferent tears threatening to spill as he did so. Success.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony leap off the couch, Peter close behind him. But as he rose, Peter stumbled and gasped, clutching at his chest as he did so. Tony whirled to catch him by his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the couch. Harley stopped as suddenly as he started, Peter pushing all thoughts of his own despair away. Panic, pain, confusion, he bounded towards Peter. 

“Pete, buddy, can you hear me?” Tony said gently, as Peter tried to suck in as much air as possible.

Harley came round to sit in front of Peter, cradling his injured hand to his rapidly beating heart, holding Peter’s knee in the other.

“Why.. Did.. You.. Do.. That?” He gasped out between each heaving breath, his hand finding Harley’s on his knee, eyes searching.

“Sorry, darlin',” Harley apologised for the second time that day. A wave of pain rushed through his hand, accompanied by a small wave of shame. Success again? “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he mumbled.

Tony looked between the two, then down at Harley’s broken hand. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, who’s here?”

“Dr Banner is currently residing in his quarters. Dr Cho has not entered the compound today.”

“Can you ask him to come here? Tweedle Dumb and Dumber have done it again."


	5. An instant is all it takes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else ever start a story and as they're writing it it just.... Goes in a completely different direction?
> 
> Yup. Buckle in.
> 
> Sorry if it's not what you were expecting!
> 
> As always, comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated. And by appreciated, I mean, I bloody live for them.

“Dr Banner, please stop fussing over me.”

“This is the third time this has happened, Peter. I think a little fuss may be exactly what the doctor prescribed. And because she's not here, you're stuck with me.”

“I didn’t even pass out this time!” Peter exclaimed. “Besides, Harley’s in the next room. He’s hurting, please help him!”

“Tony gave him some painkillers, the good ones. I’m actually working on a version for you, seeing as you like to keep getting yourself into trouble. With that and a cast, give it 6 weeks and he should be fine.”

“I didn’t mean his hand.”

Bruce sighed. “I know the two of you have been trying with little result. I’m not sure exactly what I could offer.”

“I’d talk to you,” Peter said quietly.

“Hmmm?” Bruce questioned, the surprise evident in the singular noise. “You would?”  
  
“Yeah,” Peter shrugged. “Mr Stark kinda hovers. You’re, like, very calming. And wise.”

“Not as the other guy.”

“I mean it.”

“Thanks,” Bruce replied, looking slightly taken aback. “How’s your hand?”

“What do you mean?” Peter grasped at it, defensively, pushing his thumb into his palm as if disproving any concerns Bruce might have.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything broken but… any pain?”

Peter paused. “You know?”

“I suspect.”

He sighed in defeat. “Aches a little.”

“And your ribs?”

“Still sore.”

“If it's what we think it is, they might be for a while. Unfortunately mere mortals take a few weeks to heal from wounds you wouldn’t even think on. Now you’ll have the pain of a broken hand to go along with it. I'll let you know when I'm done with the enhanced analgesic.”

“Do you know why this is happening?” Peter asked, hopeful. If anyone were to know, Dr Banner and one of his seven PhD's would.

“I’m afraid I don’t. Biology isn’t really my strong point.” Peter’s shoulders dropped, the smallest amount.  
  
“Radiation is though,” Peter insisted, adamant Bruce would be of assistance. At his frown, Peter explained, “I was bitten by a radioactive spider.”

“You were?”

“You didn’t know? I know Tony’s got a file on me, I’m assuming you read it. Did you really not know?”

“This version of me is only human, Peter. I do make mistakes.”

“Right, sorry.”

He sat in silence as Bruce continued his prodding. Unfortunately, due to Peter’s hearing, the silence only amplified that talking coming from the room next door.

“Cut the crap kid. If not me, then for Peter. I think he’s really worried.”

“And I think he’s sick.”

“Sick with worry.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I’m not sure that I do.”  
  
Peter could imagine Harley’s petulant frown as Bruce pressed on his ribs. “What do you mean?”

Peter heard Tony’s sigh, the hesitancy evident in the silence. “There’s a correlation,” he said, before pausing again. “Between you getting hurt, and Peter’s episodes. Just now with your hand, and the day of the shooting. His injuries resemble the injuries you’re sporting, as well.”

“So what, I’m killing him?”

“I said correlation, Harley, not causation. There is, of course, the exception of the second incident. Your first day back at school.”

“Stubbed my toe,” Harley muttered under what Peter assumed to be Tony’s expectant gaze.

“That’s funny, Peter didn’t mention anything about a sore toe. In fact, he didn’t mention any new injuries. Not physical, at least. I know you don’t want to talk to me, so that’s a conversation you can have with a therapist. No buts,” Tony said as he heard Harley’s mouth open. “You had your chance, with me, or Peter, or Pepper or May, and it’s not for lack of trying on our part. You broke your own hand because I asked you a simple question, for Christ’s sake. It might actually be easier for you to talk to someone you don’t know. I just need to make sure you’re handling this, and dealing with it appropriately. For both you and Peter’s sake.”

“Leave me alone.” Harley’s voice was thick.

“After that stunt you just pulled? I don’t think so. It pains me to say it, but I don’t trust you to be alone right now. So, until we’ve made a good start with the therapy, you’ve lost all privacy rights.”

"Please leave," he begged. 

Tony sighed again. “Would you rather Peter?”

“No,” the short answer cut through Peter’s heart like a knife.

“Me or Pete, kid. I’m half tempted to sic Happy on you.”

“Pete, then.”

Not caring that he was apparently the best of a bad lot, Peter slid off the bed away from Dr Banner’s cool hands before Tony had made it to the door. Tony opened his mouth to ask but Peter breathed “I’m fine,” before squeezing past him into the room Harley was in. 

He heard Tony speak quietly to Bruce as he moved towards Harley.  
  
“How’s the kid?”

“Perfectly fine, apparently. Hand hurts a little.”

“Ah.”

“He knows, Tony.”

“They both do, now. Smart enough to work it out anytime soon on their own, anyway.”

“If only we were smart enough to work out why.”

Peter felt uneasy with his new habit of eavesdropping, so he focused all his attention to the room, Harley having not noticed Tony had left or Peter had entered. He was sitting on the edge of a bed, so high up that his legs swung from the ground. It made him look young, young and afraid and _helpless_ , Peter thought sadly as he approached. 

“Harley,” he said softly, reaching forward for the hand not splinted.

Peter stilled for a moment as Haley moved away.

“Please don’t,” Harley shook his head, his eyes fixed in front of him. Even from the side, Peter could see the anguish in his eyes.

“Okay. Do you wanna watch that movie now?”

Harley just shrugged dejectedly. Peter reached for his unbroken hand again, and when he didn’t move away this time, pulled him gently from the room and into the lounge. When Harley made no move to sit, Peter sat for him, tugging him down. He fell softly into the couch, cradling the splint to his chest.

“Does it hurt?” 

The question was ignored.

“You look tired,” Peter tried again, frowning, only now just realising how right he was. There were dark circles under his red rimmed eyes, his cheekbones prominent. His lips were slightly purple, swollen and parted as he continued to ignore Peter.

“Nightmares?” When he didn’t answer, Peter simply pulled Harley’s head down the rest on his shoulder, leaving his hand there to stroke it in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I get them too."

“You’re too bony,” Harley grumbled finally.

“And you’re too hard to please,” Peter chided.

“Not really,” he said, pushing off Peter’s shoulder and shifting his weight to lay across his lap instead. He used his free hand as a pillow. “ _Aahm a sahmple country buoy,_ ” he said, deliberately laying on his accent, but it was halfhearted at best, no smile matching his tease.

“You’re not simple,” Peter whispered as he turned on the TV. He brought his hands ups to rake them through Harley’s soft mop, ignoring the dull ache as he did so. He continued as Harley’s eyes drifted shut, even after the movie finished, Peter not stopping for fear of waking the first sleep Harley may have had in a long time.

Tony walked in hours later, pulling a blanket off the couch opposite to drape it over the pair. 

“He talk to you, at least?”

Peter shook his head.

“Alright, we can leave him to sleep for a while longer but Helen’s here, she wants to cast up that hand properly. And its time for more painkillers. I doubt Harley will mention if he’s in pain so we gotta be like clockwork for him, every four hours, capisce?”

"Capisce," he nodded, and they sat in silence a while, Tony perched on the arm rest.

“So…” Tony started. “This is nice.” He said, gesturing to Harley asleep.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s slept properly in a while,” Peter admitted, careful not to throw Harley too far under the bus, even though the whole hand thing might’ve done that to himself.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Peter looked up.

Tony sighed. “Told people you were a genius, bud, don't let me down. I’ll rephrase. This is..." He struggled to find a word. "Cute.”

Peter stifled his groan of embarrassment but couldn’t help the tinge of pink heating up his cheeks. Nevertheless, he tried to stutter his way out of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He could feel Tony's eyes on him as he deliberately avoided them.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I don’t need to talk. About anything. At all. Like ever.” Tony’s lip quirked up. Forgoing his act, he sighed. “Mister Stark, please stop.”

“Stop what,” his lips twitching, eyes shining.

“Being weird. Please. If you’re weird then that’s gonna make me weird. Which will probably make Harley weird.”

“Too late, you’re both already weird. I’m just saying. It’s nice.” He held up his hand as Peter’s started. “I don’t need to know details. Just need to know if me or your aunt need to have the talk.” 

Peter’s face was now as flaming red as the iron suit, as he sat, his mouth gaping. He was suddenly very uncomfortable with Harley’s particular position.

“What- No, I- Mister Stark-” he spluttered, words leaving him for quite possibly the first time in his life.

“I mean, you have been spending a lot of time in Harley’s bed,” Tony said, mirth shining in his eyes at Peter’s discomfort.

“WHAT?!” Peter jerked, his legs bouncing up so high that Harley was jostled from his nap.

Harley grunted in annoyance at being woken up. “What was that?” he grumbled at Peter, perching up on one elbow.

But Peter was looking away determinedly, hoping the sleep still in Harley’s eyes would block out his burning face. Harley just grunted again, laying back across Peter’s lap.

Tony continued laughing. “Tell you when you’re older, Harls. Or, it might be sooner than you think,” he added, winking at Peter.

“Sleep or go,” he growled in response. 

“Actually, you’re smarter than Peter. Maybe you can figure it out yourself.”

Harley threw a pillow at Tony, the older man catching it with glee. He moved around to place it gently under Harley’s head before he exited the room. Peter waited until he was out of sight until he continued stroking Harley’s hair, not wanting anymore ammunition for Tony. Harley sighed as he did, quickly falling back to sleep.

He jumped as Tony’s head poked back through a few minutes later.

“Hey kid, you mentioned something about random energy pulses a few weeks back. You get any further on that?” 

Peter shook his head, glad his body was hidden by the couch, his hand frozen as if he had just been caught doing something wrong.

“All good, just wondering if I needed to keep an eye in case New York was about to explode or anything like that.” His eyes flicked down to the hands he couldn’t see. ”Keep it PG in public. And remember, F.R.I.D.A.Y’s always watching.”

Peter was composed enough to scowl, but as Tony left the room his mind turned with the question.

He pulled out his phone, grateful that Harley had installed a Karen app into his phone. Scrolling through, he brought up the feed from the nights in question. He stopped the caress in Harley’s hair, pausing long enough to see if the removal would wake him, but when it didn’t he pulled the boy’s phone out from his jeans pocket so he could multitask.

Harley woke later, long enough for Dr Cho to place his hand in a fiberglass cast and refuse some painkillers, snapping at Tony as he tried to spoon feed him soup. Tony got one mouthful in, luckily the one laced with the tablets whilst Harley was distracted, before Harley refused food too. At the promise of release after half a meal, Harley swallowed four more spoons before pushing past them to his room.

Peter sighed, smiling apologetically to Tony as he made a move to follow.

“I’ll bring you up a sandwich later,” he promised.

Peter smiled again, gratefully this time, as he made his way to Harley’s room alone, as Harley had moved quickly. He was already curled in his bed by the time Peter reached the door, still in his day clothes. Peter slipped Harley’s shoes off, more so for his own comfort than the other boys, before laying lightly beside him. Harley was already drifting off again, so Peter waited before pulling out his phone again.

He frowned as realisation set in. Checking once again that Harley wouldn't be disturbed by his disappearance, Peter padded from the room to his own to change into his Spider-Man suit. 

“Going somewhere?” Tony’s voice came from the doorway of Peter’s room, a plate in hand. His sandwich.

He froze, barely an explanation for why he was halfway out the window in his suit. “Harley’s asleep, the drugs might let him go through all night I think. I just need some space.”

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable before.” 

“It's fine,” he said, not wanting to dwell on it. 

“In that case, I'm not going to stop.” He grinned, the smile sliding as quickly from his face as it appeared. “So, what's up?” He gestured to Peter’s awkward position.

“Just, need to swing. Too much energy to sleep right now.” 

Tony nodded, as if understanding.

“It’s been a week.”

“It kinda builds up. I- I guess I miss it, too.”

“What’s it like?”

“You fly, Mr Stark,” Peter frowned.

“No, I mean to you. What’s it like to you, what does it mean.”

“It’s- like nothing else,” he said lamely. “I just, I can clear my head, I can let go, you know?” 

Tony waited, unimpressed. 

Knowing he would be on lock down until he gave Tony more, he took a breath and dug deep. “When I first was bitten, it was-hard. I struggled. It was really overwhelming, and for someone with serious anxiety, I know overwhelming. But this was next level and I just couldn’t get a grip on it. The sights, the sounds, the sensitivity, the goddamn stickiness, I just- But Ben seemed to know, he just always knew. I mean, he didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but he picked up on how I was feeling, and he just did all the right things, told May what to do. And for a bit it was manageable.” Peter sighed, and Tony shifted, knowing what was to come. “But then he died. I don’t know if I was just too young to deal with my parents, or if it was my Spider sense amplifying everything, but it was just too-,” he swallowed. “And May, she just- She said it wasn't my fault, but she wouldn’t look at me either. She just said she saw too much of him in me. But I think she could actually see what I saw over and over again, cuz I was there, you know, and it was all I could think about. I just couldn't get it out of my head. And she was wrong. She should've blamed me, cuz it was my fault, and I just wanted someone to tell me that because I wasn't even telling myself that, which I think was worse. So I blamed everything else. I blamed Queens, our apartment, the people I knew. But then, my web formula, it came together, it worked. It was just after the funeral, I just couldn’t be there, it was suffocating, the apartment, I felt like the whole world was suffocating me. So I picked the biggest building I could and just jumped. And I fell. And then, all of a sudden, I wasn’t falling anymore. I was swinging. And it was like nothing else. Swinging through Queens, I could finally scream, I could finally _breathe_. I could finally admit to myself that it was my fault. As bad as it felt, knowing that you killed your uncle, it was also kinda nice. Like I was relieved that I wasn't lying to myself anymore. I don't know, the adrenaline, the lack of invincibility as you cut through the air, building and roads everywhere, it just brings out the most honest parts of yourself. If I could live with that knowledge, then I could do anything. I could live with the extra strength, the hearing, and I even found that sticking upside down was kinda relaxing. And after that, it all got a bit easier, cuz I wasn't carrying around this huge secret, even if it just was from myself. Queens felt like home again, I could breathe in my apartment. And even when it wasn’t easier, I could always swing until I felt better. And then," he emphasised, "I found that swinging, could get me places where I could be helpful, where I could stop…” He took a deep breath. “I never wanted anyone to have to feel like I did, no matter if it was a lost cat or something bigger, like Ben. So there's that, but, I feel like a jerk for saying this, but even so, nothing beats the feeling of swinging, not even knowing you’ve maybe saved a life, saved a family. It’s not what you’ve got, the flying, but I think maybe I like the thought that I can lose control for a minute, even though I know I can catch myself. I can think, or not think, I can just be whoever I want to be. Who I'm meant to be.”

Tony nodded. “Flying is the same. Helping people is the same. If you had asked anyone where I was most comfortable, whether they knew me or not, they would have said it was in the lab, or partying. But for me, flying, it was the first time, in my entire life, I felt like I really belonged. That I _knew_ I really belonged. Not just to other people, but, to myself. Out in the dark night with no one else around, just the stars, it’s where I feel most safe, most at peace.”

Peter shuffled, uncomfortable in his half perch, as it sunk in how much he'd actually let slip in what was meant to be a simple distraction.

“I’m glad you’ve found your thing, kid. Even if it terrifies me half the time."

Peter nodded as he swallowed, hoping to hide his guilt until he could slip the mask on, but Tony seemed too lost in thought to notice.

"You're wrong though. It wasn't your fault. But you do know you have people to talk to if you need," he said for the second time that day. "Or who will just listen to you scream, if that’s what you need.”

Peter simply nodded again.

“Alright. Be home by midnight, or I’ll have to interrupt Aunt May's night shift. And we know how that'll end. I'll leave your sandwich here.”

His mask on hurriedly, Peter jumped out the window. Both enjoying the rush of the ground towards him, and a little sadistically, the slight heart attack he was giving Tony, he waited until the last moment possible to release a web, his feet running the ground as he pulled up. His breath caught as the sudden movement pulled at his ribs. He winced a little, in pain, at the thought of leaving Harley, and with his guilt of his white lie to Tony, or what he might say to May after what Peter had just told him. That was a conversation he never needed to have with his Aunt.

He didn’t lie, necessarily. He loved this feeling, ached for it when he took too long of a break, a week being by far the biggest stretch of time since he'd discovered the right formula. But he knew if he told Tony what he was actually doing, Tony would stop him. Pull some line out about him and Harley pushing the limits of his arc reactor. And he was right, even Peter was worried about Harley right now. And if Harley knew what Peter was doing, then he’d get worried about Peter in return and it would be this whole endless cycle.

“Karen, set timer till curfew,” he instructed.

“Of course, Peter. You have three hours. And welcome back.”

“Good to be back,” he smiled, enjoying the rest of the swing to OsCorp in silence, enjoying the feeling, the release, and as he neared, fine tuning his plan.

Roughly two hours, factoring in travel time, was more than enough to go have a look, and be back before May got involved. If his calculations were correct, and they usually were, he’d even be around to see one of the energy pulses for himself. Then, once he’d laid the groundwork, he could pass it over to Tony to take care of and hopefully distract the mentor from Harley. Harley usually sported a playful banter with Tony, but tonight, there seemed to be some real malice behind the remarks. To someone like Harley, Peter was aware that Tony's hovering was more harmful than helpful. But Peter was pretty sure he had worked out the exact level to dial his care factor to that wouldn't bother Harley, and even bring forth a bit of talk from him. As displayed in his admission to Tony, Peter was an advocate for 'honesty is the best self care'. 

“Focus, Pete,” he muttered as he neared, using the shortened name he only allowed Tony and Harley to get away with.

Landing silently on the outside of the building, he contemplated asking Karen to point him in the right direction, before he shook the thought from his head. He was Spider-Man. He could do this. He closed his eyes, crawling in the direction his gut took him, the tiny hairs over his body prickling confirming his instinct. 

He crawled for a few minuted before the hairs stood up suddenly, painfully, forcing Peter to stop mid movement and open his eyes.

He found himself in a vent, just short of entering a large- space? Peter found no other word for it. It was cylindrical and white, which made it appear endless. As his eyes adjusted to the void, two large spokes appeared from the ends of the rooms, stopping a basketball courts length between them. Behind them he noticed a control room.

Peter swallowed as his lenses focused in on the figure in the control room. 

It was Norman Osborn himself. 

He pushed away the memory he had of the last time he saw Norman, not sure he wanted to relive Harry’s funeral right now. Or ever. 

But that’s not how Peter’s brain worked, immediately jumping to the last time he saw Harry, wasted away in his private medical room at OsCorp. Saw Harry _alive_ , he corrected.

“C’mon, Peter,” he whispered to himself. That sort of distraction is what usually got him hurt. And this definitely looked like a situation he could get very hurt in, considering the pulse of energy that was set to rock through the area soon.

“Tonight, we move past the trials, the tribulations, the 5 months of testing to complete our very first, soon to be successful, extraction. Tonight, we change the world.” He moved forward to press a button. “Tonight, I get my son back,” Peter heard Norman whisper, too quiet for the other occupants of the room.

The giant machine whirled, a loud clunking, like a hammer to an anvil, bursting Peter's ears, momentarily disabling him.

“Peter, your calculated energy blast is in 60 seconds, the power levels are rising accordingly,” Karen intoned.

“Yeah, I can see that, Karen,” he gritted through his teeth. He was afraid, Peter realised. Glad to not be completely alone right now, he added, “Sorry.”

“I’m not sure you should be so close to the power source.”

“Uh, yeah, you know what Karen? I think you’re right, actually,” Peter said, his Spider-Sense going off painfully this time, in every direction, unsure where the danger was coming from.

Peter moved to get himself away from whatever the hell was going to happen next, he actually didn't care to know at this very moment, back to where he knew he would be safe. He wasted time trying to turn around in the cramped space, before realising crawling backwards was the only option, his breaths coming as fast and quick as he felt a small pull of claustrophobia, the vents closing in around him.

He had barely made it three body lengths before a flash from the opening of the vent blinded him, the air stolen from his lungs as a vacuum was created. He willed each inch of his skin closer to the metal walls, praying his stickiness would keep him from being suck in.

He was wrong.

His stomach, no, every part of his body, dropped, not unlike the feeling of swinging, as his ability was overcome. Peter was flung into the center of the white room, a familiar face passing him, as somehow, Peter was pulled _inside_ the burst of light.

In an instant, Peter was gone.


	6. Friends of Spider-Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is what happens when your brain takes every thought you've had about one story and squashes it into another story... Some of you may recognise some of this chapter from my other work 'Screw You Parker, You Owe Me'.  
> I told you it'd be wacky if you stuck around. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you think it's too far fetched, or if you're liking this new direction, or even just let me know what you had for breakfast. Comments are my jam.

**posted in FOS group-chat,**

hey so, we all good for tomorrow?  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:32pm**

cleared my busy schedule for this, leeds.  
 **detective jones, 4:32pm**

ok cool, yeah i know, i just  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:35pm**

ok  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:35pm**

it’s a saturday so im free whenever. should we go to that thai place near his apartment? may says its larb-ly.  
 **the guy in the chair 4:35pm**

or delmars, the sandwiches are pretty dope, but its just not the same without mr delmar anymore :(  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:36pm**

remember that pizza place we went to near central park after an aca-deca meet once?   
**detective jones, 4:40pm**

seraphinas?  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:41pm**

nah, pizza petes.  
 **detective jones, 4:41pm**

lol  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:41pm**

i was thinking maybe there, midday?  
 **detective jones, 4:42pm**

yaaasss jonesy. my arteries are already clogging up at the thought :) :)  
 **the guy in the chair, 4:57pm**

mr keener, will you be joining us?  
 **detective jones, 4:58pm**

harley?  
 **the guy in the chair, 5:01pm**

i know you can hear this  
 **the guy in the chair, 6:24pm**

you wanna know how I know?  
 **the guy in the chair, 6:24pm**

it's that super hearing of yours  
 **the guy in the chair, 6:24pm**

keen-ear  
 **the guy in the chair, 6:24pm**

also it says you seen it  
 **the guy in the chair, 6:25pm**

?  
 **the guy in the chair, 7:42pm**

yeh okay  
 **harley keen-ear, 9:12pm**

It was with great reluctance that Harley sent the reply. If the short answer didn’t give it away, the four hours he spent staring at his phone before formulating his reply definitely did. It was the same reluctance that had him standing outside the diner the next day for 20 minutes after their supposed meeting time. Not to mention the 10 minutes before.

He loved MJ and Ned, he really did. And he understood why hanging out with them was so hard, he was a genius after all, but he couldn’t figure out why the other two didn’t seem to find it as difficult as he did. Okay, maybe that wasn’t true either. But acknowledging that would lead him down a terrible path that he wasn’t actually sure he would come back from. Especially not since he was, quote, finally making progress, unquote, as Tony, May, Pepper, his therapist and even Happy liked to call it. 

Harley briefly considered applying to Julliard as he pushed the door open with a sigh, bell chiming as he caught sight of MJ and Ned. He gave them a toothless smile as they stood up. Of course it was, Tony joked the only person who had seen his teeth in the past year was his dentist, but Ned didn’t seem to mind as he pulled the taller boy into a bear hug. MJ even awkwardly bumped her body against him in a rare display of affection.

"We ordered for you. Weren’t sure if you were actually gonna show,” she said as she stepped away.

“Keener's ain't flakes,” Harley replied simply with a shrug, twitching off his mistake.

MJ hummed, perhaps at his mistake but hopefully at the general truth. Ned, the real superhero of the group, came to his rescue, launching into a long winded story Harley knew he wouldn’t have to pay attention to. 

He got away with it for 12 minutes.

“Harley?"

The boy in question continued to stare at his pizza.

“Harley.” This time it wasn’t a question.

Harley picked at his greasy pizza. “Sorry.”

“You could at least pretend.”

“Why? Honestly was his thing, you know. Well, here it is. I don’t really want to be here. And you know that.” He sighed. “No offense,” he added as he looked up to the silence replies.

“Thanks,” MJ said sarcastically. Harley wondered if it was appropriate to continue to note it as sarcasm, if it was just her normal tone. He didn’t miss the sympathy in her eyes, however, which made him purse his lips and throw down the soggy crumbs he’d been fiddling with for the past few minutes.

His phone buzzed. His hand turned to flip it over out of instinct, but was stopped from checking the notification by a glare from MJ.

“C’mon Harley. We’ve barely seen you this past year, and on the rare occasion that we have you’ve been silent and broody. As much as it pains me to admit it and deflects from my cold hard exterior, I miss you and I want to spend quality time with you. Can you put your phone away for an hour, at least and just talk to us?”

Harley looked away, biting his lip.

“How’s senior year so far? Has Mr Stark made you look at colleges yet or are you just I dunno, gonna take over his Stark Industries or something?” Ned followed up.

Harley chewed on his lips a bit longer. Not wanting to reflect on the fact he’d seen the lease for a shared dorm, both his and Peter’s name on it, a few years back, he shrugged instead.

“Far out, Keener. Fine, you can go. See you for an equally as pleasant exchange same time next year,” MJ spat out, venomously. Harley didn’t blame her, and truthfully he felt a bit guilty but was far more grateful to be allowed to leave. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could maintain his composure. He left some bills on the table to pay for his share as Ned looked away awkwardly and MJ took a swig of her soft drink. She stared him down as he rose, adding, “Happy Fucking Deathday, Peter.”

Harley stilled, frozen for a moment, before lowering back into his booth. The words hurt, he was sure MJ had meant them to. In four, hold four, out four, he breathed as he tried to hold back both his anger and sadness, reminding himself that these feelings were good, were better than the numbness that caused him and his pseudo family so much anguish. 

Instead of retreating into his shell, his haven from the outside world, he acted on his earlier thoughts, continuing, “I’m sorry. I am. It’s just... Hard.”

“Oh yeah, it’s been a cake walk for us,” MJ snapped, the venom sneaking back into her tone.

“No, I know. I just - I, I dunno. You guys still had each other, you know?”

“No, I don’t know Harley. You had us!” Ned watched a little fearfully as MJ exclaimed. “You still have us.” 

Harley wished he had made his exit when he had his chance as his eyes started to prickle familiarly. He didn’t need them to see him like this, and he didn’t want to be yelled at, even deservedly. Not today.

“We lost one friend, Harley. It was a real punch to the gut to have to lose two,” MJ continued quietly. “And you? After Rose Hill, I mean, you lost every-”

Harley’s phone buzzed again, distracting him enough to swallow down the tears. He could save those for tonight. Because Harley Keener doesn’t cry. Not publicly, at least.

“I do get it, Harley. I do,” MJ pressed on. Harley avoided her gazes as he eyed her drink like it was a truth serum, wondering what would spurt from his own mouth if he drank it. “But I’d kind of like this day to be a celebration, a nice day, seeing as you skipped his birthday. I think we’re allowed at least one of those a year. The rest of it can suck balls.”

Harley nodded, trying to swallow down the ever present lump in his throat. Perhaps the drink could help, but no. He didn’t want anything getting back to Tony. He gave his second faux smile to the two.

“I’ve already got MIT on the list. I’ve applied for a few other places but I guess it’s always been MIT, you know? It'll be nice to maybe meet someone again who speaks your language, that isn’t a creepy, 40 year self-described billionaire, playboy, philanthropist who kidnapped you from your home at age 15. Besides," he added, "As if Pepper would even let me near Stark Industries after the shit I pulled."

"I mean, Mr Stark used to be pretty wild. You couldn't do worse than him," Ned teased. 

Harley laughed, a little less heartedly than usual, but nonetheless a laugh. He knocked on his head as he said, "Guess there are some things The Great Tony Stark can't fix."

His phone buzzed once more, shaking the table between them.

“Oh Jesus Christ. Answer, then turn it off,” MJ said as she rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she hid her satisfaction at the answer, perhaps in part at the familiar cheek. 

He flipped his phone over, frowning slightly as his home screen showed no notifications. Harley unlocked it as it started to buzz arrhythmically.

MJ raised her eyebrows slightly as Ned craned over to have a look. 

“Sooooo, I shouldn’t invest in a new Stark phone once it’s released? Seems like its glitching pretty badly?”

Harley continued to frown as his phone vibrated, freezing, and forcing restarts on several of his apps by its own accord.

“No, it’s-”

Harley was cut off by a sudden crackling from his speaker and the opening of an app. He paled.

“Harley,” Ned leaned forward.

“Karen,” he whispered.

“Harley, what-”

“I- I don’t know. It’s never worked before, not this whole year. I forced Karen’s data into an app, not actually, just a copy, I linked it, the feed, the memory,” he rambled. “I hacked into Pete’s suit just before it happened. He kept hiding things, injuries, I don’t know, it was just in case. Tony was no good. But, it’s never worked, she’s never worked, she’s not online” he pleaded up to MJ and Ned, both staring at him in shock. “I tried tracking, tried contacting for ages, I still try but-”

“Harley,” MJ cut him off sharply. She was looking over his shoulder but he could still see the worry in her eyes.

The phone sounded again.

“No-- where are--- d-mit.” 

“I’m never wrong, MJ, you know that! There was no damage before he- All her systems are fine, just not contactable, it’s not broken-”

“Harley!” MJ cut him off again with a nod to the small TV screen. 

He twisted sharply to see the news playing behind him. The sound was quiet but the shaky camera told enough of a tale of the Manhattan skyline 

A bright light, blinding, burned high above the skyscrapers. Above and all around it, the sky was black, a swirling wormhole sucking in all that was around it. The buildings closest, though still anchored miles away to the ground, began to sway with the effort. 

The Karen app cackled to life again.

“What the hell- alright… get ready-”

The voice was deep, but even in the garbled transmission Harley’s face fell. “It’s not him,” Harley whispered, his hands gripping tightly on the fake vinyl seat. 

“Something’s happening,” Ned whispered, as out of the fireball in the sky fell-

“Is that Spider-Man?” A voice in the diner rang out, causing a waitress to pick up the remote to turn up the volume.

“From what we can see before us, it appears that from this large mass of, I’m not quite sure what we’re seeing here, but it appears that the vigilante most known to Queens has returned through this anomaly currently situated over Manhattan. It has been nearly a year since-”

“It’s not him,” he said more confidently this time, cutting off the news reported. And for the first time ever in his life, Harley hated being right, wished he wasn’t blessed with this intelligence. The suit was darker, both the red and the blue, the streamlined fall too elegant, too different from the mannerisms he’d seen in videos he’d spent hours analysing.

As the figure released a web to land on a nearby rooftop, two more figures appeared from the hole, flying through the air as gracefully as the first. It was another flash of blue and red, and as the camera zoomed closer, a rush of white, purple and black, much sleeker

“What the hell happened?” A low voice came from the speaker of Harley’s phone, clearer this time.

“I don’t know! We were all set to jump, everything worked fine for me,” a girl’s voice rang through, slightly panicked. “For us, we all made it.”

“Yo, incoming,” a younger boy’s voice said as the three figures turned their eyes upwards on the TV screen. “Uhh, I might need a backup, though, the jump busted me a bit. You got me?”

“I got you,” the girl said again, as they saw the feminine figure leap from the rooftop, impossibly high, to grab the incoming figure, a black suit this time, by the waist, her web connecting to a tall building to help slow their descent.

“Miles, what the hell happened?” Came the oldest voice so far as the two landed with the group.

“I don’t know,” the suit of black, and at a closer look, a rough and imperfect red symbol taking over half his suit. “There was an explosion, mid jump I think, he knocked me out of the way.”

“So where is he?”

“I don’t know,” the young voice, Miles, said. “He was right next to me.”

“Dammit, Peter,” the first voice muttered.

Harley, Ned and MJ turned to face each other, shock on their faces as they stared down at the phone between them.

“Harley, what is this?" MJ breathed the words out, almost as if she spoke too loud it would shatter what must be an illusion in front of them. 

“I told you, it’s Karen,” he formed the words incoherently in his own shock. “It’s everything, vitals, communications, memories-”

“So can you speak to them? We can hear them, Harley, they said Peter. You gotta try!” Ned slid the phone towards Harley, who’s fingers flew furiously as he opened the app.

“So what do we do now, Tiger,” the creatures on screen all turned to face the original Spider-ling. “Peter had the watch.”

“I- I don’t. I don’t know. This was meant to work, this was it! He-”

“Uh, Tiger?” The girl called out again, drawing their heads back up, all eyes in the diner back on the small TV.

For out of the supernova in the sky fell a final body. It twisted, flailing limbs hitting each other with no control. The suit, red, blue and patches of white shining through as gravity rapidly pulled it down. 

“I can’t, the receivers on the other end, it's been altered, or damaged ,I’m not sure. If I was in a lab maybe i could access it, but this phone, the capabilities…” Harley trailed off as he turned his body back towards the screen, eyes locked on the descent, his phone forgotten in his hand.

“He’s not slowing,” Miles warned.

“I think he’s out. He’s gonna hit the building, at this speed, he’d be a Peter pancake!”

“Give me a boost, Gwen,” Tiger said, as he approached the ledge, falling backwards off the building.

Gwen shot out a web, acting as a pendulum to spin him in a full circle, too fast to count how many times, before she let go, releasing him high into the sky. He rocketed up like a bullet, his arms outstretched, wrapping them around the middle of the figure as he narrowly avoided colliding altogether. The force of the smaller body caused Tiger to flip around, webs spitting vigorously out but not latching on anything that could be of assistance. He curled his body around it protectively as his back hit the corner of a building, redirecting their fall into a death drop.

Gwen moved from the rooftop to the building opposite, her arms a blur as she created a net down the block. She landed half perched to the windows, stuck only by her feet as the pair whirled towards them, her arm outstretched as if to catch them if her safety failed.

They slammed into the net, giving way a little before they were catapulted on an angle to the rooftop. The smaller body was ripped from Tiger’s arms, bouncing across the concrete before coming to rest on his stomach. 

“Peter? Peter?!” Tiger called as he crawled forward, rolling him over. The three teenagers huddled in the booth gasped collectively as the movement revealed a bloodied and mask hiding half of the face, a familiar set of curls matted to his forward. The eyelids fluttered briefly before the body curled in on itself in pain, shuddering, as he hid himself from the world, lips pushing out sounds of agony.

Harley had seen enough. He double tapped the dark blue near his ear and pushed the phone towards his friends opposite him before bolting out of the diner, not pausing to think on the direction in which to go.

Harley had never run so hard in his life, he was sure of it. The burning in his chest, the closing of his throat, his vision swimming, it all just felt familiarly like a panic attack. Except where normally his panic attacks rendered him paralysed, this was only spurring him on. Ignoring everything but the thought of what he had just seen, he willed his legs to keep pushing.

He ran towards the blinding light still searing into the sky. His earpiece crackled, and he stopped dead at the voice in his ears. 

Harley waited again, desperate to confirm what he’d heard, but while he did so the sky exploded above him. Debris, shrapnel, from what, he wasn’t quite sure, scattered through the air, smacking into the side of his head as he stood frozen in the middle of the path. The world muffled itself instantaneously. Ignoring the near silence, he threw one arm up to protect himself and continued to run.

He heard the words “Central Park” faintly through the faulty comms and immediately changed direction, rolling his ankle with the careless speed.

The world around him detonated again, this time pushing him to the ground. Harley bounced on the curb, pain coursing through his head at the impact, resulting in complete silence. He attempted to shake the throbbing in his head and ears away as he pushed himself from the ground.

'Central Park is a fucking big place,' he wanted to scream to the heavens, but as he looked up to do so a blue and red figure passed through the air above him.

The Spider-Man stopped mid swing, seemingly Harley having caught his sight. His eyes blurry with the smoke and the double head wound, he had difficulty differentiating which of the Spider-gang it was as it lowered to the ground.

“Pete?” He gasped as he neared, the figure much taller than he remembered, the suit shinier. He kept his eyes firmly on the male as he bent in half, leaning forward to grab his knees as he gasped for air that was not quite reaching his lungs.

But the figure, Tiger, he deducted, shook his head, reaching his arm out. 

“Harley, wait!” He called out as Harley rushed off again, the voice unheard into the wind.

He ran after in the direction the black and purple shape had sped in just before his interaction with Tiger, hobbling a little as his ankle gave way repeatedly. He looked up again as the Spider-Man joined Gwen in her swing, Harley following them as close behind as his humanity allowed him.


	7. Home is where Harley is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cats, or should I say Spiders, are out of the bag with this one.
> 
> Also a little further explanation of my Spidey-Sense/Screw You Parker amalgation, both stories were always going in fairly the same direction anyway, I just didn’t want to be too tropey (as I have several other stories planned) or rewrite the same story twice hence the merge!

A burst. A rush. A boom. A wave. Of light, air and sound. Of energy and pain.

It rippled around him, tossing his body like a rag doll in the dark, knocking him into the nothingness that surrounded him.

Peter screamed, or perhaps he thought he did, his mouth open as his whole body caught afire, the rays of light disappearing into the edges of black as quickly as they came.

Perhaps he had imagined the motion as there was no sound, a thought that was cut off as suddenly a pressure exploded in his chest, as if the combustion had come from inside himself, causing his body to fold in on itself. Had he been on solid ground, Peter certainly would have collapsed, but as he hurtled through space and time, the hurt briefly robbed him of his consciousness as he neared the edges of the void, a city appearing below him.

The world was silent as he entered. Focusing, his face would have rearranged into a frown had he had the time to do so, he realised this wasn’t true. But he wouldn’t describe what his ears were doing as hearing either. The rush of air around him, the expectant city noises, his own voice or the voices from the comms, were muffled, was dampened as if there was cotton wool in his ears.

He’d become so accustomed to it, the overload of noise, alerting him to danger almost as much as his so called Spidey-Sense did that this disabled him as he continued to drop. He could still feel the vibrations near his ear, so the suit was somewhat online, but he couldn’t quite make out what Karen, or anyone else was saying.

He opened his eyes to see a city rushing towards him, familiar and so unknown at the same time. He was falling faster than he cared, then he was able to comprehend, and fast enough to make him become a Peter Pancake unless he did something about it soon. But he was falling, too quickly, his fingers frozen as he fumbled at his web shooters. Shooter, he realised in horror, one half of his suit gone.

He felt hands grab around his waist as his shock paralysed him. Two bodies intertwined as they tumbled through the air for too long, bouncing softly on netting- no, webbing, before crashing onto solid concrete, a material that could take out even Spider-Men. The pain mixed in with a sudden burst, brighter than the flash just had transported him moments ago. He curled into a ball, every cell in his body ripping from him and slamming back in simultaneously. He twitched straight again as his limbs clashed against each, pain pushing them away like the same ends of a magnet.

“It didn’t work,” he sobbed quietly, not even reaching his own ears.

“Peter? Peter?!” Noise. Not clear, but there was definitely noise, a hint of concern, as his body was rolled over.

Drawing his eyelids up, scraping like sandpaper on his eyeballs, he looked up to see Tiger. This was where the noise was coming from. The Spider-Man swayed, no, his own head rolled causing the motion, in the aftermath of the pain. His tongue was thick in his mouth as he failed to talk.

“Peter, you did it. You’re home.”

“No, it didn’t - no,” he gasped, clutching at his stomach. “I glitched, I-”

Tiger stuck his hand out to his shoulder but Peter shied away into the concrete, not sure his body or his mind would be able to take the touch. He curled his body into the smallest ball he possibly could for the second time, ignoring the torture it did so.

“Ben?”

“I don’t understand - it was all right, it was all correct.”

“We don’t know that, Ben. It was a guess, at best, none of us knew what we were dealing with. You couldn’t have known, we couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

From above, another explosion burned into Peter's closed eyes. He coughed as smoke entered his lungs, hacking up liquid as he did. Deciding it was too much effort to expel it, he opened his mouth, embarrassed as it drooled out.

But the group was focused on the portal. "Oh no, what have we done?”

“So what now?” Miles said as he rocked back between his toes and heels. “We all stuck in another world now? Cuz I'm not jumping back through that thing. In fact, I would very much like to get as far away as I could from it.”

“I guess we find this world’s Spider-Ling and restart,” Gwen said miserably.

“I’m so sorry Tiger, I’m so sorry,” Peter sobbed, quiet to his own ears

“Hey, Peter. Peter, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything. We gotta get you help, first, and then we’ll work out what next.”

“We’re going to have to get out of here, Tiger. We weren’t exactly subtle, and we don’t know how this world will react,” Ben reasoned.

Tiger nodded. “Hopefully, the Spider will find us. I’d guess that they’d be nearby, but seeing as it was a calculated jump, we’re in uncharted territory now.” He paused, crouching down to Peter still shuddering on the floor. “We need to get you out of here. Do you think you can move?”

Peter nodded, barely perciptible. Tiger helped him up with one hand on his arm, the other forcing him gently from his back. Once upright, Peter took a moment to take in his surrounding, still shaking from the shockwaves of a glitch. It was subsiding as he swayed against Tiger, slowly replaced by a new pain.

Everywhere.

He looked down, his worse for wear suit now completely tattered. In fact, half of it was gone, the edges, he realised as he looked closely, melted onto his skin. At first he was unsure where one ended and the other started, but upon seeing the territory lines drawn by bubbled and raw skin, bile immediately pooled in his stomach. He vomited, not acids, and definitely not remains of food, but bright red onto the grey concrete.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Tiger murmured in his ear, tightening his grip to hold him upright. Peter continued to stare at the mess on the ground, ignoring the concerned expressions he knew were behind the four masks.

The sight of his own insides painted over the rooftop caused another wave, burning rippling up his throat, and he heaved again, spitting away the excess blood onto the ground once he was done. Wanting to look anywhere but at what was outside his body that should have been inside, and what was inside that was showing to the outside, he lifted his head. Peter's eyes slid over the skyline, the sight catching his breath. He pulled himself from Tiger’s grip, stumbling to the edge. He breathed in, the effort drawing attention to the ache in his chest. The familiar ache, one he’d only felt three times before, though Peter sure that even only one incident was enough to make an everlasting impression.

“Harley,” he whispered.

“Peter? What is it?” Gwen was by his side in an instance, her arm out as if she was afraid he would tumble off the building.

“I think it worked,” he breathed.

“Peter?” Miles, this time, to his other side, arms out behind in case he fell backwards.

He turned. “I think- it’s, it’s New York. My New York?” He said, the pain of talking pulling at the part of his mask plastered to his mouth. It ripped at his lips, and Peter tasted blood again as his delicate skin tore.

He turned to face his counterparts, to tell them, to make them understand, but his determination left him, and he collapsed forward into Miles’ arms.

This time, the effort of opening his eyes was more than he could handle, his eyelids shutting out all light as he came to on the ground again. Without sight, Peter was reliant on his other senses. He couldn't turn to touch, simply everything hurt, and he was worried if he focused too much it would overwhelm him, becoming as much of a mess as that he had just expelled from his stomach. Turning to smell, he inhaled through the unmasked side of his nose, but a whiff of charred skin, mixing in with the taste of blood and vomit causing his stomach to contract again. Helpless and running out of options, he prayed to his own hearing. Normally Peter had to filter the noises around him, sorting through heart beats and multiple conversations and distant car horns to focus on what he needed. But this, this was sorting through sound muffled as if he was ten feet under murky water.

“Tony Stark,” he heard softly, using all his energy to listen to Tiger. “We’ve got to find Tony Stark.”

“North, Peter said,” Miles spoke. “My New York is pretty similar, I think, I could pick the way.”

“I don’t want to move him like this,” Tiger said, still gently. “He’s never been this bad, I don’t know what happened in the jump but he’s not okay from it.”

“I don’t think we have a choice, Tiger. We can't stay here. This portal is about to rain down hell and we can't jump back until we know he's safe. Well, I can't. I'm not leaving,” Gwen said, Peter imagining her arms crossing as she did.

"None of us are leaving, Gwen," Ben said reassuringly. "We just need to get off this rooftop."

“If Stark’s watching, surely he’d come to us,” Gwen offered.

"We still don't even know if we did this right for sure, Gwen, if this is Peter's world."

“Try the comms again, see if you can force through a channel.”

Miles fumbled for a moment.

"Ours are all working, we can communicate to each other so it's likely a problem receiving. Peter's suit is the only one we could alter to this world, to connect Karen, but it's in as bad as shape as he is. We're going to have to wait for someone to contact us."

"Screw this," Gwen snapped. "I'm finding a friggin pay phone and I'll just scream until someone answers.

Above them the sky exploded again.

“Alright, we’ve got to move him away from here.”

“Ben, Miles, you take Peter. Get him somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. I'll see if I can find some medical supplies, though I don't even know what would help. Gwen, do whatever you need to get onto Tony Stark.”

Each individual nerve in Peter's body screamed as he was lifted from the ground though the movement was most definitely delicate. He whimpered, the noise ceasing as immediately as it started as it caused him more pain.

“Sorry bud, this is gonna hurt. But it’ll get you home quicker. Tony will know what to do,” Ben's voice was low to his free ear.

Peter tried to call out in protest as he felt his body shifting, tried to tell them to stop, that he couldn’t handle it, but no air left his lungs. Before he could try again, they were flying, Peter knocking repeatedly against Ben’s chest as he tried to swing with only one hand.

Barely three swings, though an eternity to Peter, the comms crackled again, as he tried to ignore everything to focus on the voice in his ear.

“Ben! Get him to Central Park. It's Tony, Tony Stark. Tony got through, he's going come get him. There’s a jet coming, it’ll land wherever you are.” Peter felt a glimmer of hope in his chest, overtaking the ache there as he willed himself to hold on. He was so close.

“Right, Central Park,” he felt, rather than heard Ben’s voice in the vibrations of his chest. “Which way is that? And don’t you dare roll your eyes at that, Miles.”

“Follow me. And try to keep up old man," Miles teased before changing direction. Peter groaned as Ben followed, his teeth knocking together as his head wacked Ben's body.

“Old man? You wanna carry Peter? Don’t forget what I can do, what I’ve been through kid, you’re only just beginning and I can easily take that away from you.”

“Not if you can’t see me,” Miles chuckled.

As they neared Central Park a hint of fresh grass cut through the garbage smell of New York. Peter felt the surge of hope in his chest expanding, stronger and stronger in a good type of pain, right up until another explosion knocked all three figures out of the air. Unable to catch himself, Peter rolled a few times on impact, a hot poker searing into his sides. He pushed himself up, grass between his fingers, sure he had hit his head as the world grew quieter.

“What the hell is that,” Miles screamed up into the sky.

“The portal it’s been open too long. It’s going to collapse in on New York!”

“You’ve gotta go. You’ve gotta get home,” Peter turned to Miles and Ben, ignoring the pain it caused to move his mouth.

“No, Peter, wait up for us,” Tiger’s voice rang through the comms, barely audible.

“You’ve gotta get home before there’s no other chance. It's too unstable, I won't let you get stuck with me, like me, you gotta go, ” he battled on, oblivious to their concerns. They had to go, to get home, he couldn’t, wouldn't let them go through what he had.

Ben reached forward but Peter had made up his mind. Determined, with the details preset before the jump, he held out his wrist and slapped at the watch on it.

Shimmering briefly like an ill formed hologram, almost as if he was sucked back into the ball of light in the sky, Ben was gone.

He turned to Miles, slightly twisting the outside of the watch around to where he needed. “No, Peter- don’t!’ He said but it was too late. Peter had already hit the button. He gave as much of a smile as he could to the dark suit, before he too, disappeared.

“PETER!” He heard the strain of a scream, rather than the amplified voice. He turned to see Tiger and Gwen, racing from building to building. As he twisted the watch again, thinking only if Gwen, his eyes slid past the two approaching, focusing on a different movement. The sky was on fire, but from the inferno but there was a figure running towards him. Blinking blood out of his eyes, he saw, rather than heard the whisper.

Peter stumbled forward, the watch forgotten, feeling the strength leave his legs with each step. The figure was much quicker, he was running, shortening the distance between faster than Peter could.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Harley,” he breathed as the world tilted, whirling, before going black as the ground rose up to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know New York, so hopefully this was passable. Also, ITS FANFICTION SO EVERYTHING JUST WORKS OKAY?! Okay. Thanks.
> 
> Also I just realised this is much shorter than my other chapters. Guess there are no good words unless Harley and Peter interact! Hey, I don't make the rules. Sorry, nonetheless.


	8. Tiger, Gwen and the Spider-Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, once again! Hopefully it still hits the spot.

“Peter,” he whispered, too quiet for his own ears, though if he heard it, the whisper would have been laced with disbelief. 

Peter turned towards him, expression too distant and unreadable under his burnt face and mask. His legs buckled with each step, dragging as he powered forward, and as he got closer Harley saw the grimace of agony as he tried to move forward.

Harley was running, faster than he had before, his eyes trained on Peter’s face. As his legs gave way a final time, his mouth parted slightly in a perfect ‘O’ perfect as he fell to the ground. Harley closed the distance in enough time to catch the collapse, Peter limp against his chest. Harley held on as if his life depended on it, perhaps it did. He lowered Peter to the ground, crouching with him so he could cradle Peter in his arms. With one supporting his neck, the other held over his chest, he frantically searched for a heartbeat. His eyes darting between Peter’s eyes, lips and chest, desperate for anything. He looked up momentarily, panicked at Tiger and Gwen who had landed lightly beside the pair on the ground. Behind them, Ned and MJ appeared, Harley’s phone still in MJ’s hand, their chests rising and falling hard with their sprint. He looked back down at the still boy in his arms, _Peter_. He was so pale, so cold, his skin so worn. No he couldn’t- He just got him back, he-. 

“Pete. Pete!”

His shouts were drowned by the Quinjet, landing in the middle of the grassy area, leaves swirling in a hurricane as it lowered. It hadn’t even settled on the ground, the hanger door only partly open before Tony strode out in his Iron Man suit. He rushed over, shouting at Harley who could do nothing but stare at him in shock, one hand still on his chest in hope of the faintest of heartbeats. 

His grip was no match for Tony, who plucked Peter from his arms with ease. Tony raced back to the jet, Tiger and Gwen wasting no time in following. Harley, much like Peter appeared before, unable to make his legs work in the way he wanted, was stuck in the same position on the ground until Ned and MJ hoisted him up by his armpits, pushing him roughly onto the transport.

When they boarded, Peter was already placed on a metal table in the middle of the ship. Tony attaching silver bracelets which Harley knew the transmit basic vitals to both the Iron Man suit and Helen Cho. The Spider figure, Tiger, reached forward and, a quick look towards Gwen, removed the watch on Peter’s wrist. He fiddled for a moment, twirling the dial on the outside before he hit the watch face roughly. As if it controlled a vacuum, the air within, and outside the open quinjet door rushed past them towards the source of destruction, before the sphere of light folded in on itself with a small pop. The sky once again turned normal, debris and smoke settling into the streets.

Tony moved towards Harley, his eyes wide. Harley jerked his head to one side, motioning to his bloodied ear. Tony nodded once, squeezing his hand and turned back to Peter, walking around to the side so that he was facing Harley.

“Someone mind telling me what the hell is going on here?” Tony asked as the jet lifted off. Happy, Harley saw behind the controls, barely kept his eyes focused out the window as he kept turning behind him to gaze at the scene aboard the jet.

The spider-creatures mumbled incoherently.

Harley moved closer as Peter stirred suddenly, his hand flailing. Tony reached out, Peter’s head lolling to face him at the contact though his eyes remained shut. His lips moved imperceptibly, Tony murmured in an attempt to soothe. “He’s here, you’re okay, you're safe, he’s here.”

“One of you spider-lings better start explaining how you turned up here with Peter after a year through a fucking wormhole in the sky. He’s a right mess, so start talking before I turn you into one myself," Tony gritted, looking up once Peter had calmed, his hand falling down as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up. 

With a deep sigh, enough to move his whole body, Tiger lifted at a seam under his chin with a single finger and removed his mask, under the gaze of every occupant of the jet.

“Blonde. That’s a choice,” Harley said loudly, breaking the silence.

Standing in front of them, was Peter Parker. 

But not Pete. The man in front of them was blonde, and slightly older, a few years, perhaps a little taller and muscular. Blue eyes looked back at Harley instead of the brown he was used to, causing him to turn away at the painfully similar smile threatening to break his heart.

The other suit removed their mask.

“I’m Gwen. This is Peter, but we call him Tiger.” Also blonde, Gwen sported soft features, an upturned nose and one eyebrow higher than the other, making her look like she was judging the room.

“What in heaven and hell is this shit?” Tony said once he found his voice.

The two ignored him, their own private conversation taking importance.

“A year? That means he lied,” Gwen said with a small glare towards the unconscious body on the table. 

“We don’t know that Gwen.”

“You didn’t see his face, Tiger, when I met him. You didn’t see it.”

“We don’t even know if time works the same.”

“I’m sorry, works the same as what? As far as I’m concerned you're Thing 1 and 2 until you tell me who the hell you are!”

Peter- Tiger turned to Tony. As he opened his mouth, the pair dropped to the ground in an identical motion, Peter curling into a ball on the metal bench above them.

They twitched on the ground for a moment, the hiss of air and small moans escaping clenched teeth. Harley moved forward, his arm outstretched but Tony held up his hand, afraid even the slightest contact could break Harley. Tiger used the bench to pull himself up after he seemingly recovered.

“Welcome to glitching,” Gwen said, panting as she too rose. “It’s bitchin’.”

“Far out,” Tiger swore, breathless. “That didn’t tickle.”

“Will someone please just TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Tony screamed, the effort reddening his face.

Tiger composed himself with another sigh, rubbing at his chest. He swallowed. 

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker, just- not the one you seem to know. In my world, I’m Spider-Man.” He held his hand up as Tony opened his mouth, Harley looking between the two. “This is Gwen, in her world, she was Ghost Spider. The other two spiders you saw? Miles and Peter, but we called him Ben because it soon got extremely confusing with all the Peters and Spider-Mans around. You can call me Tiger."

He looked at his gaping crowd before continuing. "Peter, your Peter, came to Gwen’s world first. When he, jumped, is what we call it, between worlds, it was much like how we came to yours, if not a little more contained because the portal was probably shut immediately. A white light, swirl of colour, imperceptible to the human eye, loud noise, and suddenly your entire being is sucked out of one existence and into another. We seem to get dropped close to our other world counterparts, so Gwen found him quickly, albeit a little confused. He was there for two of Gwen's months, before the both of them were jumped again, into Miles’ world, for only a day, before being jumped to Ben’s world. After another week, they were jumped into my world, for a month. And now we’re here,” he gestured around the room, finishing lamely. 

“You say he’s been gone a year?” Gwen asked.

The occupants of the room nodded in unison.

Gwen turned to Tiger, “So that leaves 7 months before me.”

Tiger sighed again. “We don’t know that,” he repeated.

“You telling me you wouldn’t lie about it either, Tiger? You seen the look on his face when we pester him about it. Even without that, I mean come on, just look at him. No wonder he’s so gaunt, he hasn’t eaten since he let his own world!”

“He hasn’t eaten in a year!?” Tony gasped.

“We’re not really sure why, we think it might be the glitches, but they don’t seem to affect us as badly as they do Peter. But they get worse with time, " she said, looking pointedly at Tiger, “which would explain a lot if he’s got an extra 7 months on us.” She turned back to Tony. "We can mostly manage foods, Tiger, get ready for that. It’s like old Chinese you eat when hungover, just repeating itself for an eternity. But the longer we’re away from our own world, the harder it is. Honestly, simply existing hurts for me right now, and I bet it’s nothing on him.”

“What’s a glitch?" Tony pressed, but Harley had a feeling he already knew the answer. 

“We're not sure if it's the jump that causes it, or being in another world, but either way my best guess is that our bodies aren’t designed to leave our worlds. From the way it’s been described and by what I just felt, it feels like every atom in your body trying to rearrange themselves to fit into their new environment. Peter and I looked into the chemistry of it. He showed me elements which are isotopes in my world, but in his, ours are the isotopes, which we're banking is the best theory for right now.”

“Same same, but different,” Gwen offered.

“I think, if it weren’t for our healing, we’d probably die from it," Tiger said quietly. 

“So why do you jump? Why’d Pete leave?”

“Up until now, we haven’t had the choice to jump ourselves. It happens randomly, beyond our control, the gang came to me with a half formed plan on how to harness it. A month of fiddling, and we gave it out best shot,” he motioned to the watch. “Which is busted now, and I'm not sure we just didn't blow a hole in your New York.”

"So what, space and time just decided to randomly pull all the Spider-Men, and Women's," he corrected, "together for fun?"

"When I met Peter, he told me he was investigating large energy pulses in his city. When he followed them, they led him to OsCorp where Norman Osborn was orchestrating an experiment, he didn’t know what though. Just before he was jumped, Norman said something about successful trials, changing the world, Harry, and then the machine pulled him in."

“What do you mean, Harry?” Tony’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Norman’s son, Harry, he was Peter’s friend. He said Harry had died a few months before, some rare and incurable disease.”

Tony nodded, his eyes dark.

"He isn't dead in my world," Tiger said quietly. 

Tony’s head snapped up. “So what, Norman went crazy with grief and tried to jump his kid across worlds, and Peter got sucked in?”

Tiger shrugged. “It’s far fetched, but closest to our guess. Peter said he saw a face as he was sucked in, he couldn’t be sure if it was Harry or not, it was all too much and too quick. But, it’s the best we’ve got.”

“So that’s your best theory. What’re mine? What’d other me say about this? I’m assuming I’m smart across the board,” Tony asked.

“You’re dead in my world,” Tiger rebutted. Tony’s eyes flashed, darting to Gwen as she spoke.

“You’re mostly a dick in mine, too drunk to even speak straight when we tried,” she offered further. “We didn’t have time in Miles’s and we couldn’t track you down in Ben’s, whether you were dead or out of action or simply didn’t exist.” 

They let the knowledge sink in, Tony lacing and unpacking his hands as he strode along the plane. Harley tracked his every move, eyes constantly flicking back to Peter still unconscious before him.

"So what's this little fight club here, then, Brad Pitt? The 7 months issue, what's that about?"

Tiger and Gwen shared a look, which was cut off quickly by Tony. “I gotta know all the players before I put them on the chess board, alright?”

"When I met Peter,” Gwen started. “He seemed fairly chill about being jumped, well more chill than I was the first time it happened, and he knew what to expect and how to handle a different world. I just thought it was dodgy, considering he had no solid intel on Norman, or why he was jumped. Which I think he would have only known if he'd been to other worlds before us."

"So why'd that guy stay behind? How'd he skip a jump if Pete got to your world?"

It was Tiger who spoke this time. "Considering we all got jumped each time, Ben thought it'd only be if the Peter or equivalent in that world was dead. Long dead, too, because there was no body jumped into Gwen’s world. Quite possibly with the time frame we now know, it may have been multiple times, if it’s been 7 months since he’d left. The longest he’d been in a world before was 2 with Gwen, though the pattern so far has been inconsistent."

Gwen looked forlorn as she added. "He just had that look, you know. Like, we all know each other's back stories, we've all lived them, the death, but this was- this was new. This was broken. He won't talk about it, won't even deny that anything happened, which is why I think something must have," she sighed. 

Tony stopped pacing, reaching forward to inspect the watch on Peter’s wrist. “You need that thing to get home? What happens if you stay here too long?”

“Probably the same as Peter here, eventually. We tried basic testing, what I smuggled into my college lab, and the amount of molecular degeneration, it’s- . Even in Ben. If it weren’t for our enhanced healing, I think any of the jumped could be dead by now. But even that seems to be slowing, none of the gang were healing as quickly as normal, and scarring a whole lot more, towards the end of their time in my world.” Tiger took a deep breath. “That, and it's a whole world of hurt in between with the glitches.”

Tony sighed. “We’re good for it. Harley and I, we’ll fix it up,” he said, nodding his head towards the boy.

Harley didn’t smile back, too busy staring at the bloody body in front of him. MJ crept forward, unnoticed by Harley until she took one of his hands in both of hers, Ned moving forward to take her other side.

“MJ-” Ned started but at her name Tiger and Gwen’s head whipped to her, eyes wide.

“You’re MJ?” Tiger gaped.

“You got a problem with that?” She shot back.

“No, I just-” Tiger chuckled as he looked her up and down. “MJ in my world is just, very different.”

“Is it because I’m black?” She deadpanned.

Tiger laughed again. “Maybe not so different. She’s just as fiery, with hair to match.”

“She’s Tiger’s fiance,” Gwen joined in laughing, as if a distant memory had taken hold. “And going to be a good mother one day, judging by the way she took care of all us strays for so long.” She reached up to ruffle Tiger's hair, smiling warmly for the first time since her mask had come off. 

MJ shot a look at Harley before turning to the unconscious Peter on the table, hissing “Don’t even think about it.”

This caused the whole ship, bar Harley to laugh.

She nudged at his shoulder gently, her previous annoyance at him forgotten. She brought the hand holding his forward, unlacing it onto the cool metal near Peter’s. 

“Go on,” she mouthed.

Harley's fingers trembled as if he were afraid. Afraid that if he touched Peter, the illusion would be broken that the boy was actually there in front of him. Afraid that he would wake up from this dream, or was this a nightmare? Perhaps even that the skin his fingers would brush would be cold skin, cold enough to bury. 

“He needs this,” she mouthed again, as she picked up his hand again and placed it in Peter’s, the side uncovered by the broken suit, flesh to flesh. "You need this."

He stilled a moment, his heart high in his throat, but the touch was warmer than he expected. Not warm enough, so Harley took Peter’s bloodied fingers in his own, his stomach queasy at the wet between them, at the thought that this was the least of Peter's pain. He kept his grip gently in order to not accumulate more for Peter, his eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest, the only sign he was real as Harley forgot about the hand in his.

MJ leaned her head into Harley’s shoulder, wrapping both her arms around Harley’s outstretched one as they flew home in silence.


	9. Say Goodbye

Peter awoke for the first time in a year from a rested sleep. He had been dreaming, for once not a nightmare, he was sure of it, slightly elated as the practice had escaped him all this time. He tried and failed to remember what it had been about, wondering why he had been woken so soon when he noted his body to be still tired, obviously needing rest.

It wasn’t the soft sound of another’s dreamless breaths or a steady heartbeat that alerted Peter to the presence of another in the room. In fact, he didn’t even notice until he dozed slightly, his head rolling a little in his sleep and his eyes opened again, his breath catching at the sight.

Harley.

Just as he’d remembered him. Just as he pictured him. Truthfully, had anyone else been asked to conjure a memory of Harley, they were sure to mention a snarky comment, or a lopsided smirk, or even the confidence in his shoulders as he sauntered through life. But not Peter. His favourite moments of Harley he was sure were his own, a different boy that no one else got to see, not even his mama. The Harley that Peter had imprinted in his brain was the one asleep in front of him, features peaceful and almost vulnerable as his guard was down. Seeing Harley in his dreams was not a rare occurrence, but it was the rise and fall of his chest, letting Peter know that he was real, he was here, and that even after all this time he wanted to be near him, no matter that it was dark, past midnight. 

“Harley,” he croaked, the effort straining at his throat as he felt the familiar pull of sleep again. Peter frowned, he was sure he had not been awake that long, not long enough to be tired already. Using the last of his energy he tried again, louder. “Harley,” he rasped, but still the boy remained in a deep sleep. Unsure how much longer he would be awake, Peter eyed the small help button on the side railing, tempted to press it just in order to see the other eyes in the room open. As his fingers neared, his eyes dropped shut again, index falling uselessly just an inches from the button.

Harley was still asleep on the chair when Peter awoke a few hours later, his head now bent at an awkward angle, held up only by his hand on his cheek, one leg over the arm rest. Peter’s head was still in the same angle on the pillow, as if he had watched him even while sleeping. He kept it there so even as his eyes stayed half lidded before fully opening, it wasn’t an effort to keep looking at Harley.

Just as before, Peter didn’t notice anyone else in the room, until he felt the soft fingers on his cheek.

“Peter?” May asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

He turned his head to hers, his own eyes watering, unsure if it was from the emotion of seeing her or the pain it caused him to move. His mouth thick, saliva strung from his mouth as he tried to open it, coughing instead of telling her he loved her, he missed her, he was sorry-

“Shhh, you don’t have to speak. It’s okay, you’re here. You’re home,” her smile wobbled. She brought a cup to his mouth once he had finished his fit, helping hold his head up as he swallowed. May leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to his forehead once he was done, but as soft as it was, he still grimaced.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, leaning back to sit by his hips instead. Her expression told Peter she never wanted to stop looking at him, mirroring his own feelings. “I missed you, baby.”

But a movement behind her caught his eye, as Tony stepped forward.

“Hiya, Roos. It’s good to have you back.” Unlike May’s sad smile, Tony’s was wide, taking over his whole face, causing the wrinkles on his face to fold into each other. 

“You got old,” Peter joked, barely able to get the words out even with the water lubricating his mouth.

The pair laughed, and Tony reached out to ruffle Peter’s hair, May’s arm stopping him in warning.

“Now, now, _Harley_ ,” he joked back.

“Oh leave him, Tony. I’ve been missing Harley’s sass, it’s been too long,” she laughed again.

Peter frowned at the comment, unsure of the meaning. His eyes flickered to the sleeping boy on the chair, who was here, who had _been here_ the whole time.

Tony picked up, obviously trying to seg-way. “How’re you feeling? Cuz you look like pretty shi- awful,” he faltered under May's glare.

Peter nodded, the only motion he could manage, though it wasn’t easy.

“Hurts,” he croaked.

“Might have something for you to help with that. Banner came through, painkillers for superheroes,” Tony said as he pulled a bottle out of his pockets and rattled it slightly. It must have been full, Peter not having any soon. That would explain the pain and lack of noise. “Heads up, we might need it though. We’re gonna have to undress you before the world figures out who you are.”

“Tony,” May sighed, exasperated, perhaps from a conversation they’d had multiple times.

But Tony shook his head, looking to Peter for backup. “We’re gonna have to get this suit off you before your skin fully heals to it. Tiger said your healing has slowed, so it gives us a bit more time but I’m not sure exactly how much and I don’t wanna risk you getting a permanent tattoo before you’re 18. Not under my watch anyway.”

Peter followed Tony’s gaze down and gagged at the sight of his own body. Half his suit was missing, injuries splattered across pale skin, but what was worse was the suit that was remaining. It was burnt, had Peter not known what it was made out, he would have assumed rubber, the way it had melted onto his skin.

Tony’s words sunk in, but he was wrong. The suit was normally snug, designed exactly for Peter, and fit like a second skin. In the past year, it was not only a protection, but his suit and Karen became his home. Due to the blast in the jump, it was now apparent it had become him, no longer additional layer but fused as his own. He wasn’t sure that he could handle this. Letting go of Karen would be achievable with his family now around him, but the thought of peeling his own skin off in order swirled nausea through him. May had cared for him too many times, seen the look in many of her own patients, and helped roll him sideways so he could vomit bright specks of red onto the floor below. Barely anything to empty, he rolled back onto the sheets with sigh, wanting nothing more than to curl up and cry.

But if at any time he could get through it, it was now that he was actually home, with his family. His mismatched, chaotic family at best, but the one he had tried so hard to get back to for a year.

So he nodded.

“We’ll be right here,” May said. He shuffled his hand forward in need of her touch, not caring about the pain it would cause. Her sad smile turned genuine as she laced her fingers through his.

“Throughout the whole thing,” Tony agreed. “And even after, because you best believe after you’re better I got a whole year’s worth of things I get to yell at you about. And I’m going to enjoy this seeing as how much pain you caused me for a year.” He leaned forward to lower his voice into a pseudo whisper. “Plus, you owe me this. I get to yell at you as much as May did to me, and then you’re going to tell her it worked so she won’t think I’m as irresponsible as she currently does.”

Peter’s eyes flickered between the two, a teasing that he was sure was based in truth.

“You’re a champ, Pete. Cho’s already on her way, as soon as she gets here we’ll get started. I know you're tired, but the suits a bit busted and it seemed Karen stayed on vacation in god knows what world you were in, so you’re gonna have to talk to me. What hurts, where and why, so once we get this onesie off we can get straight to it while you sleep.”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint exactly where the pain was, when in this reality it just seemed to be everywhere. So he stated with that. “Everywhere.” Tony raised an eyebrow, more wrinkles ensuring. “Skin. Stomach. Shoulder. Lungs. Head.” Suddenly exhausted with talking, he moved his free hand up to tap his ear.

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Can’t hear.”

He looked to May, her face widening in surprise. A dark look passed between them, before Tony tuned back.

“Like, at all?”

Peter closed his eyes as he shook his head. “Normal. Not spider.”

“Right,” Tony pondered a moment, frowning as he did so. “So no enhanced hearing? You just hear like us plebs? Any of your other senses take a hit?”

Peter was so exhausted, and unsure as to why Tony was pushing this so much. He’d accepted the head and lungs, both far more important in Peter’s opinion. He shook his head slightly as his eyes drifted shut again. He was willing to continue the conversation so long as he could conserve his energy through lidded eyes. 

“Okay, good work buddy, we can be done talking now. But we’re gonna need to try this suit, alright? I don’t wanna leave it too long.”

He’d barely been awake for five minutes but Peter was as tired as if it was five days. He nodded, desperate for this to be over so he could just sleep again.

“Alright, I’ll see where Cho is at. Open up, let’s see if Bruce has held up his end of the deal.”

Peter let Tony slip two tablets into his mouth, again gratefully swallowing the water that followed.

As they waited for Dr Cho, Peter noted the overall pain he had been feeling fade into a dull ache as May stroked his hand. It was nice, to be warm and comfortable, in the presence of his family. Peter had missed this. So much, it hurt more than any injury he’d ever had. So much, that he'd rather go through all of them at once to get back. But now he was, and the lack of pain, both soothed by May Tony and Harley, in part the medicine, was so surreal that he hoped he wasn’t again in a dream, and the nightmare was soon to begin. He rolled his head to the side again, looking towards Harley through his lashes until Cho walked in, two nurses trailing behind her.

She nodded towards Harley. “Should we wake him?”

“Leave him, he’s exhausted, Helen.”

Peter opened his eyes to protest, but Tony spoke before him. “Those drugs kicked in yet?”

Peter’s lips pressed in a straight line. Overall, he was grateful, but even the movement of moving his head caused a quick flash of pain through him, warning him that what was to follow would be even less pleasant.

“Maybe we should wait, Tony,” May started forward, once again concerned.

“Just do it,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Alright,” Tony said as Helen got set up. Tony pulled up a spare chair as an iron gauntlet appeared around his wrist. He looked to May, who released Peter’s hand so Tony could grab it. “You squeeze this as hard as you need. If you don’t break it, I’ll buy you a car. If you do, I’ll buy you a house.”

Peter stared down at his suit, his face fell as he realised that this was it. Then end of Karen. “I’ll make you another one. A better one,” Tony promised.

Helen looked to Tony. “I might need you to hold him down,” she said, gently as she pulled down the blankets to expose all of Peter’s body.

“I've got the best seat in the house, Helen,” Tony jabbed. “I called in back up for that, the Spider-team get to prove their worth.”

At their summoning, Tiger and Gwen walked into the room. 

“Hey, Peter,” Gwen said softly. Tiger just grinned, large as ever.

Though he’d missed his own world family, Peter's mood lightened at the sight of his new friends. As sudden as his joy appeared, so did guilt. "I'm sorry," he croaked. 

"Hey, hey, none of that," Tiger said.

“How d’you like my home,” he managed out, desperate for a distraction.

Gwen spoke again. “So far, I can’t complain. Tiger could though. Big boy had his first glitch,” she winked.

Peter’s face paled as Tiger widened his eyes in warning at Gwen.

“It’s not your fault, Peter. We all knew what we were getting into. And as soon as I can trust you to not do something stupid, Gwen and I will be on our way back home.” He moved around to the head of Peter’s bed, his hands poised near his shoulders.

Peter searched his eyes, and as usual, found no lie. “Well be home soon. We just gotta get through this part first”

Peter nodded, his eyes watering for the second time that morning.

"Is everyone ready to start?” Dr Cho asked as she moved closer, the nurses just behind. 

Gwen moved to his ankles. “You owe me dinner if you kick me in the face.”

“I like her,” Tony laughed to Peter. "Maybe we can get her to stay."

Peter couldn’t be jovial back. He was suddenly scared as Helen moved forward, a silver instrument shining in her hand.

“Okay, let’s begin.”

And Peter's world erupted in pain. It flashed behind his eyes and through his teeth, running down his spine, branching off each of his nerves and through his fingertips and toes. He certainly could hear now, his own screams burning his ears. He pushed against Tiger, against Gwen, squeezing Tony’s hand so had he felt the metal crumple beneath him. After an eternity, it stopped.

Peter lay panting on the bed, sucking in as much air as he could between sobs. He looked down again, sobbing as he saw that they were barely half a foot of new skin down his chest. His head flopping back against the pillow, his sobs were cut off by a new noise.

The door opened to reveal Happy. 

“Jesus H Christ, what the heck is going on in here?” He looked to Peter, his eyes widening. “Hey kid, it’s good to see you,” he said softly aware that Peter could not respond. 

“We’re helping him.”

“Helping? You’re hurting him. Hell, it sounds like torture!”

Peter didn’t disagree.

“Alright, we’ll take a small break. Peter, think you can do any more?”

“No Tony-"

“Yeah,” Peter heaved, cutting May off. “M’ good.”

“You don’t need to impress us, Peter. We already know you’re a bad ass. Especially him,” Gwen chucked her head towards Harley.

Happy looked down, as Harley gave a small yawn, eyes still closed. Peter was amazed he had slept through it. He assumed he had been screaming loud enough to wake the dead, though his own voice was even still muffled in his own ears so he couldn’t be sure.

But May put her foot down.

“Happy, get him out of here. He needs a real bed.”

It seemed Happy agreed. He reached down to scoop Harley into his arms. Rolling with the movement, Harley’s head fell into Happy’s chest, looking smaller than his long limbs had ever allowed him.

“Go get Pepper,” she said softly, brushing Harley’s hair as Happy walked backwards through the door. She turned back to face the room. “Tony, that’s enough. It’s not working, it’s causing more harm than help. If you want to really get back into my good books, find a way to get it off that’s not going to hurt him,” she said forcefully, crossing her arms to reinforce the seriousness of her nature.

Whether Tony was scared or agreed, he relented. “I come in here to give you a lecture, and I end up getting one in return, Roos. I’m gonna add that to the list of things I have against you,” Tony sighed as he attempted to unwrap Peter’s hand from his broken gauntlet. “Guess I’ve also got some house hunting to do.”

Peter relaxed slightly at the teasing, and admittedly the thought of no more pain, but he was so spent, so sore, he just wanted to sleep.

“Everyone out. He needs to rest,” May hurried them from the room, grabbing Tiger by the shoulder and forcing him around when he made no move to leave.

Though he meant to say goodbye, Peter’s eyes closed before he had his chance, his head facing the chair that Harley had until recently occupied.

When he woke again, it was not Harley, but Tiger, occupying the spot.

“Hey,” he said as he noticed.

Peter grunted in response.

“Fair enough. I’d be the same.” He waited a moment, setting down the newspaper he’d been reading. “You did it Peter. You got yourself home. You did good.” 

“You ‘kay?”

“I’m fine. It’s nice here. Been a good reception, too.”

“May?”

“I thought it’d be harder, but it’s just been nice. Thanks for checking in though.” He leaned back, Peter now noticing that the chairs were different, they seemed more comfortable. “Your family is great, Peter, I can see why you were so anxious to get back. But it’s fine, cuz you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Peter nodded, and Tiger seemed consent to just sit there in silence. Minutes, maybe more, passed before he spoke again. 

“Just so you know, Tony and Harley are going to fix up the watch. Actually, not a watch. I drew a rough plan of the device you saw the night you were first jumped, and they reckon they can recreate a smaller, denser and more accurate version right here. The watch, whilst obviously did the trick, was too unstable and would actually take longer to recreate than making a whole collider. I hope they’re right, because I don’t wanna cause a hole in your home. But it won’t be for a while. We’re going to prioritise your health, and once you’re better I think Harley’s attention will be better focused on the problem.”

Peter’s eyes flickered from Tiger’s face to the chair he was in.

“He’s asleep.”

Peter nodded.

“Have you talked to May yet?”

Peter shrugged.

“Okay, you should,” he paused. “She can fill you in.”

“Met MJ?”

Tiger barked. “Yup,” he chuckled as he shook his head.

“Told you,” Peter said, grinning although the motion hurt.

“I’ll never doubt you again. She and Ned stayed as long as they could until Tony sent them home, something about not wanting to be arrested on kidnapping charges. But they’re setting up a schedule around schooling to come visit once you’re up for it, once the suits gone. I think Tony’s got something else up his sleeves for that, hopefully we can get you untangled from Karen with as little pain to you as possible and also fix up whatever else is going on.”

Something must have flashed across Peter’s eyes.

“I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re gonna have to tell someone eventually. Whatever happened, whatever you haven’t told Gwen or I, they’ve cottoned on. We may have said something, but also just straight up Peter, it kinda seems like you’re dying. To tell you the truth, I’m glad I don’t know because I don’t think I could stand between Tony or May.

Peter swallowed.

“Do you want some food?”

He allowed Tiger to feed him some water, then soup, but barely a few mouthfuls in his stomach churned. He motioned to Tiger, though too weak to push him away Tiger understood. He vomited over the bed again, someone having cleaned up the previous lot, blood mixing in with the liquids he’d just attempted.

“Do you want me to get anyone?”

“M’ sleep.”

“Good idea. I'll be right here.”

Peter's heart twinged with guilt as he wished it was someone else.


	10. Not today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for self deprecation and trauma jokes as unhealthy coping mechanisms, something which Harley and I have in common. It'll be a reoccurring theme for the chapter and remainder of the story. Apologies if this is not how you react but I like to have elements of truth to my stories, this the reasoning behind the self projection

Harley stirred, his neck aching and his foot tingling as if it had fallen asleep separately to him. He was lying down, he realised, not on a chair but in his own bed as he felt the worn and familiar sheets underneath him.

He groaned. Not again, he'd been doing so well lately, as he wracked his brains trying to remember how he got there. But, like usual, it was nothing, just a sharp cut off at his last thoughts, sitting in the Med Bay with Peter.

Soft hands in his hair alerted him to the presence of someone else in his bed. Turning his stiff neck upwards quickly, a vague memory of a year ago, another in his bed, he saw Pepper smiling down at him.

"We moved you," she explained, waiting till his eyes focused on her face before she spoke. "You didn't look very comfortable."

"I was fine where I was," he grumbled loudly, sitting up. He turned to face her but hid himself behind his hands, his knees up to his chest.

Pepper raised her eyebrows high, tapping the top of his hand. He sighed and leaned his head forward to nudge her shoulder.

"You need to speak to Dr Carly sometime soon. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow," she said when he leant back.

Harley groaned again, but Pepper continued, her mouth barely perceptible in the darkness of the room. "This isn't something Tony or May or I will be able to help you with. We barely know what to do ourselves."

"Maybe you should go to therapy then," he retorted, but kept his tone light. She opened her mouth with a small smile, but Harley looked away, not hearing what else Pepper had to say. 

"I don't want to talk anymore," he said. 

He didn't want to speak, didn't want to think, he just wanted to be near Peter right now. Pepper leaned forward once again to hold his head, her thumb rubbing over the front of his ear. She moved it down his back, giving him a small push off the bed.

Grateful to be released, Harley searched for his shoes. He stumbled out of the bed clumsily, slightly disoriented,before padding out of his room. He looked to his watch as he headed to the Med Bay, 4:37pm, but of which day he couldn't be sure.

Peter was still asleep, the afternoon sun bouncing off his face. It almost made him look angelic, as if he were glowing, Harley thought as he stood still in the doorway. He allowed himself to take it in, almost tempted to take a picture, until he noticed Peter’s chest.

He was sure the suit was higher up the last time he saw him, the skin less damaged, as he walked forward to inspect. His heart clenched a little as the red skin stood out, ripped and torn, but meeting a sharp cut of suit.

He wanted so badly to wake Peter, but one look at the circles under his eyes stopped him. Instead, Harley sat lightly next to his hips, one leg bent to support his balance as the other dangled to the ground. Still gently, he reached both his hands forward to take Peter’s unsuited hand in his, carefully inspecting for obvious injuries before running his thumb over it in a back and forth motion. Just like May and Pepper had so many times for him.

The sky grew darker, the sun dimming as Harley noticed a packet of wipes on top of the medical tray by the window. Reassuring the sleeping Peter that he would be back immediately, he moved the packet back to the bed and resumed his position. Holding Peter’s hand delicately though working swiftly, he wiped the dried blood and dirt from his hand that the team had missed, perhaps left in fear of hurting him. He continued as far up his wrist until he reached the first burn. Unsure of whether he was simply working meticulously or just not wanting to let go of the hand between his, Harley continued to wipe over the area until the sun was long gone. 

Harley didn’t notice May walking into the room, or hear her call his name. He jumped a little as he felt her hand on his shoulder, missing the movement of her lips as he looked blearily into her eyes, the outline of Peter’s hand almost burned into his sight. They flickered over his, moving his face between her fingers as she looked towards his ear. She smiled sadly.

 _Not today?_ She signed.

Harley lowered Peter’s hand softly to the bed, his own required elsewhere. _Got damaged while I was running. Think there was an explosion. Guess they were more banged up than I thought, I couldn’t hear shit,_ he signed back.

_Want me to go grab another pair? I know Tony made spares._

Harley paused a moment. _The quiet is kinda nice, you know?_

May just smiled as she pulled a seat closer to the medical bed, bringing her closer to both Peter and Harley. She reached to grab his hand, but he pulled it away. He hesitated, not wanting to hurt May with the motion, but he needed a moment. He rubbed at his Adam’s apple before bringing them up to reinforce the gesture. _I’m not sure I can trust myself to speak too much_.

He lay his hands back down, this time welcoming May’s warmth. She smiled sadly at him, but the pair decided there was nothing to be said. Instead, they continued to watch Peter sleep, almost as if they took their eyes off him he would cease to exist in their world. 

May spoke only to Pepper as she brought dinner to them, the three eating quietly in the Med-Bay, not for the first time.

Insistent that Harley sleep in a real bed tonight, May and Pepper compromised by pulling a spare medical bed over, Pepper leaving to grab some clean pyjamas for Harley.

Harley was tempted to sneak into Peter’s bed as Peter did to him those few times before, but he held back in fear of causing any sort of further damage to his skin. He was content to fall asleep with his whole body facing, ensuring Peter was the first thing he saw when he woke up.

It was early when he rose, too early for anyone else to be awake, so Harley set to cleaning down the other uninjured parts of Peter that he could reach, stopping only once he'd been over his whole body twice. It didn't take very long, not long enough for Harley's liking.

He asked F.R.I.D.A.Y for a replay of the Med-Bay whilst he was asleep which proved to be quite boring. He kept the sound down, ignoring subtitles as he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything on the screen other than Peter. Going back even further, only made Harley frustrated and anxious, twitchy even, so he shut it down quickly. Desperate to keep his hands busy, whilst also acting on what he’d just seen, he padded into Tony’s lab a few floors down, grabbing what he needed before returning to Peter, thankfully still asleep.

Harley was tinkering with his hearing aids, not getting far when May entered unnoticed once again at a more respectable hour. He hadn't got very far, in fact he hadn't even started, but he put them down hoping she wouldn't notice the frustrated tremble in his hands.

 _What are you doing?_ May asked. 

_Gonna fix them up, tune them in to heartbeats. Give that fucker a taste of his own medicine,_ he signed back, smirking as he did so. It slid a little as May pursed her lips at the swear, but thankfully she chose to ignore it today.

_You ready to talk then?_

Harley pressed his lips together, staring at the device and tools in his lap. He shook his head slightly. _I missed things. Peter woke up the first night, and I didn’t know because I couldn’t hear him._

 _Oh baby._ She moved to ruffle his hair but he ducked away playfully.

 _Also you lot didn’t bother to tell me when he was awake and screaming,_ he signed as he picked up a screwdriver, pointing it at her _, So now I got trust issues. F.R.I.D.A.Y’s the only one who's straight with me right now._

 _I didn’t want you to see that,_ May said. _It was hard to watch_.

Harley frowned. _What do you mean?_

_He’s in pain, Harley. A lot of pain._

_Is Bruce’s medicine not working? I thought he’d perfected it. Damn near made me proofread his paper on it._

_It wasn’t strong enough, not for this. His suit has melted into his skin completely. Bruce said it would probably be like trying to do the same to us with just an ice pack or paracetamol. But he has something else he wants to try, more of a sedative than an analgesic, so we’re going to try that next. Thor’s stopping by today too, he’s bringing some Asgardian elixir back. We’ll see if that helps._

I _want to help,_ Harley insisted.

But May just sighed and ruffled his hair, turning at a sound Harley couldn’t hear.

Harley turned to lip reading instead.

“He’s here already? Okay, I’ll go get Bruce, we’ll get started.”

She turned back to Harley to translate, but he tapped on his lips before signing.

_I’m coming with you._

She sighed, sticking with talking. “I’ll ask Tony.”

She left the room, Harley keeping his eyes on the door until she returned. She jerked her head in motion to follow him.

Harley placed his unfinished hearing aids on the seat as he moved out of the room. At May’s raised eyebrow, he just shrugged.

_I didn’t finish fixing them. Besides, the silence lets me think._

_Should you be thinking too much before you speak to Dr Carly?_

_May, I'm trying to say I’m willing to trust you on this,_ _maybe I don’t need to hear him yet_ , he sighed as he slid his hands into his pockets when he was done.

They left the room, passing Bruce in the hallway. “See you in there,” he said, giving Harley a reassuring smile.

They moved into the Stark’s private bathroom, Tony and Thor pouring a bath. Harley frowned as Tony stood flinging water from his fingers as he explained. _It’s an external elixir. If we soak Peter in it as we remove the suit, it’ll both help the pain and heal him quicker after._

Harley nodded.

 _You wanna hold his hand? He’ll be sedated mostly but he won’t be asleep so I’ll have to get you a gauntlet for that. He crushed through one of mine last time, I don't want anymore broken bones for you._ He looked to May and spoke softly, his lips barely moving. “Or Peter.”

Bruce entered the room with Peter, curled in his arms, his eyelids almost fully shut. His breathing was light, shallow, Harley noted, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible. Helen and a nurse entered beats behind him, a scalpel and large tweezers in hand.

“We’ll soak him for a few minutes, remove as much as we can, then leave him to soak while I monitor his skin. I’m not sure how this magic water will work, so we’ll just see how it goes, minute by minute. If not, I’ll apply some gauze when he gets back to his room,” Helen said.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Harley saw Bruce's lips say. “Peter? I’m going to put you in the tub.”

Bruce lifted Peter into the full tub, resting his head on the lip as he lay out his body. Peter’s eyes fluttered with the movements, moving his hands to hold onto the edges. They slipped, his grip loose, and he slid into the water, Bruce catching him before his head went under.

He looked to Tony and Cho. “We might have to remove the suit out of the water. I don’t want him to drown.”

“It will not heal him the same,” Thor spoke out, Harley feeling the vibrations as his voice boomed through the small space. "It is advised that he remains in the elixir for as long as possible."

Tony looked to Bruce, but Harley caught his attention.

_Will it hurt me?_

_What?_

_The water, the elixir. Is it okay for humans?_

Tony spoke to Thor, before turning back. _It’s fine.You might glow a little bit._

 _I already glow,_ Harley grinned crookedly as he pulled his shirt off with one hand in a swift movement. He removed the rest of his pyjamas, unperturbed to be almost naked as he walked behind Bruce. In understanding, Bruce leaned Peter forward so Harley could slide in behind him. He pulled Peter in to rest against him, Peter’s head falling back onto his chest with a small thump. It rolled slightly, his ear pressing towards Harley’s heart. 

He wrapped his arms under Peter’s armpits and laced them around Peter’s bare chest, above the melted suit, resting his chin on top of his head. As Cho moved forward to start, Harley closed his eyes.

He could feel Peter’s moans vibrating his chest. He wasn’t sure how long they continued, too long in his opinion, but when they finally stopped he opened his eyes. He looked down to see the top half of the suit gone, down to his hips, Peter’s skin red raw underneath.

 _Gonna dunk your head under?_ Tony stuck his tongue out, teasing, as he moved his hands up to cup his ears. They were definitely there, but May still moved forward to whack the back of Tony's head.

So Harley flipped him off instead, earning the same punishment as Tony. He scowled at her, but faltered under her disapproving gaze. So he turned his scowl back to a chuckling Tony.

_That’s all we’ll do for today. We’ll try his legs tomorrow, and then his face the day after. Bruce doesn’t want to push the sedative, we’re still not sure what the effects are._

Harley nodded. Unlacing his hands, making sure Peter wouldn’t slip, he asked, _Did he scream?_

Bruce moved into view. _I’m smarter than that, kid._ _It worked._

Tired of the teasing, Harley sighed. _I could feel it._

Tony grimaced, a little guiltily. _We’re trying our best, kid._

He moved forward to remove Peter from the bath, Helen patting him dry. 

“The sedative should wear off soon,” Bruce said.

“Good, he needs to eat. He needs energy to heal, and right now he's far beyond his reserves,” Cho said firmly. 

They moved him out of the bathroom as Harley clambered out. He stuck his middle finger up at Tony as he tried to pat Harley down, turning to May, who just laughed in reply and said aloud “You deserved that one.”

 _Can you help me with something later?_ Harley signed as May handed him some new clothes. 

_I’m free now, what’s up?_

_Need to fix up my ears but I don’t have the schematics for the originals._

_I have spares, you know I made plenty._

But Harley shook his head. _Nah, I wanna do it. Besides, I decided yours weren’t good enough_. _I want them leveled up._

Tony shook his head in exasperation. _Nothing is ever good enough for your generation. Alright, lead the way._

But they were stopped halfway in their journey by Pepper, who turned Harley by the shoulders and all but marched him into the lounge.

 _Dr Carly's here, the floors all yours,_ she said, as he glared at her. He rearranged his features quickly as his therapist entered the room, not wanting to give her any more ammunition.

"Pepper said you weren't talking today," she started

Harley nodded, swallowing down the lump that had been present for a while now as if she could see it.

"Alright then. Let's try writing it down then. You can use whatever method you want, an essay, dot points, a mind map, I don't really mind. I just want to know where you're at right now."

He sighed, knowing the sooner he started, the sooner he could be finished. So he began to write, until his hand cramped, and once he'd written all he thought he could he took to drawing the modifications he was attempting on his hearing aids.

Dr Carly seemed satisfied, enough to not give him anything to work on with the promise that she'd see him again once Peter woke up.

 _Can I take this?_ He wrote on his design, wanting to get started. She nodded, and Harley left the room for the lab, paper in hand.

Tony was already waiting, whether he'd been there the whole time or been alerted that Harley was on his way he wasn't sure. Regardless, he handed the paper to Tony, who brought up his own designs and they began. Harley was grateful. The lab, the routine, with Tony was calming. Though it had only been a few days since they'd last worked, he had missed their dancing around each other, the bouncing of ideas, the distraction from life itself. A little guiltily, Harley also realised it was the only time he and Tony didn't bicker lately. They were a good team, good enough to finish quickly, much quicker than Harley anticipated.

Tony handed them to Harley who shook his head, Tony nodding in understanding. He pulled Harley in for a hug, one of the rare times Harley felt small.

 _Alright young buck. Get out of here_ , Tony signed as he let him go.

The sight of Peter through the window stopped him in his tracks as Harley approached the Med-Bay. The IV tubes had been reinserted, almost tangled around Peter. The removal of the suit simply highlighted the wounds on his torso, a mismatch of colours painting a painful picture, both to Peter and those who viewed it.

May sat to one side, holding his hand, as one nurse moved bloodied towels from near his head, another wiping at his unconscious chin before wrapping an oxygen tube around his ears and up through his nose. Helen moved forward, attaching a tube to his stomach.

Harley’s throat was tight as the medical team left the room. He stood outside, unable to tear his eyes away frozen until May noticed. She left the room to greet him, rubbing Harley’s back before she spoke.

_His blood pressure is low and he's got a fever, but Dr Cho's mostly concerned that he’s not keeping any food down. We just need to help him out through the tube for a few days until Cho can figure out why it’s happening. It will bypass his stomach so it’s hopefully there will be less vomiting, less blood._

Harley nodded, this time not able to push down the obstruction in his throat. It possibly came out as strangled sob before he could stop it.

_He’s not your mama, Harley. He’s going to be okay._

_You don’t know that._

He felt rather than heard her sigh, bringing her hand back up to his back.

_Do you wanna go inside?_

Harley nodded again, letting May lead him in. She left him alone, until Pepper came to sit, a sandwich in hand.

_How’d it go?_

Harley shrugged, hands twisting inside his hoodie.

_I meant with Tony. He was impressed with what you did in the lab._

_Yeah, got some Keen-Ears now._

_That’s not funny,_ she said, looking far from impressed.

 _Ned came up with it. I thought it was hilarious_.

She sighed as if she’d never understand him. _You okay? May told me what you said._

Harley shrugged again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. _It's on me. I should be used to it by now._

_Don’t you dare. That’s not true._

_You know a ‘keener’ is literally a person who is paid to cry over the dead right? Besides, using self deprecation and trauma jokes as an unhealthy coping mechanism, Pep, what did you expect from me?_ He replied, not meeting her gaze.

_I still got time to train the Tony out of you._

_Do you really want that? I thought you loved him._

Pepper laughed. _He took a lot of warming up to. But you, I could love you no matter what._

“Love you too,” he grumbled.


	11. Got my super strength from you

Peter’s circadian rhythm had yet to be synced into this world, as he awoke in the darkness. He looked to the chair, his heart dropped as he saw it was empty. He looked to the roof, he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He tried to sit, but both too weak and wracked with a sudden pain, he doubled, turning to his left as he shook. He opened his eyes, to see Harley asleep on a bed next to him.

His torso was clear of his suit, but as he pulled his hand up to his face, he still felt the mask. Looking under the sheets, so too were his legs covered.

“Harley,” he rasped but like the first night, the boy did not stir.

For the first time since he had entered back into his own world Peter felt wide awake.

“Harley,” he tried again, louder.

But still, no recognition that he had been heard.

Determined, he inched himself to the side of the bed. Sure that his legs would take his weight, swung them off the bed. They buckled beneath him, forcing him to grab the mattress as he fell to his knees.

Alright, crawling it was then.

As he moved his hands down from the bed, he felt a twinge at the tubes inserted in his body. But Peter didn’t care much, not until his arms collapsed under him as he moved and they ripped, pulling both from his body and at the machinery attached, causing them to fall.

Their removal caused several alarms to go off, soft beeping just enough to be annoying, but not enough to wake Harley. Peter tried to get off the ground by himself, failing, floundering until a nurse raced in, Tony not long after. 

Peter’s face fell in embarrassment, but neither noticed as they lifted him, the nurse cleaning him before reinserting the devices he’d ripped out. He tried not to watch as she placed the tube back into what appeared to be a hole in his stomach. But that would explain why he woke feeling less exhausted than usual.

“That wasn’t very clever, Peter. You know well enough by now you got a help button exactly for things like this,” Tony tskd.

“Harley. Trying to get to him.” The fall had stolen all Peter’s energy to talk, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for one of several of Tony’s promised lectures.

“Why?” He asked, dismissing the nurse with thanks.

“Didn’t hear me.”

“He’s not going to kid,” Tony said sadly as he tucked Peter in, stealing a glance at Harley.

“Why not?”

“That tale of woe is Harley’s alone to tell.”

Peter frowned. He opened his mouth but Tony interrupted.

“Nuh uh, back to sleep. The pair of you need to sort out a regular sleeping schedule, you're driving us all crazy here. I’m going to stay until you fall asleep. I don’t put it past you to try something else once I leave.”

“Creepy,” Peter said, earning a chuckle, but he settled deeper into the pillows.

“Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“M' not 4.”

“Never said you were. I just thought my earthly tales might bore you to sleep seeing as you’ve been gallivanting alternate realities for a year.”

Peter kept his face neutral, but not enough for Tony.

“I’ll cut you a deal though. If you were, let’s say, to enlighten me on parts of that adventure then I might be able to help you out with your little situation right now.”

But Peter kept his lips firmly shut.

“I thought so. So here’s an exhilarating tale of how Pepper taught me how to poach eggs.”

Truthfully, Peter actually didn't have the slightest clue about how to poach eggs. It wasn't like May had ever tried before, probably for the best. And though he wouldn’t admit it, Tony’s long winded and excessive speech was quite soothing, less so the content but the familiar rise and fall of his voice. Although it didn’t put him to sleep, it helped relaxed him enough for Tony to believe it. He waited for a few minutes after he felt the weight leave his bed before cracking open one eye, then the other once it was clear, still unsure of how to cook eggs.

“F.R.I, what’d Tony mean?” He asked into the air. Tony had only given him curiosity, not comfort.

“It appears Harley is not wearing his hearing devices and therefore is not able to respond to your verbal commands.”

Peter frowned. Before he’d left, there had never been a discussion about Harley’s hearing, or lack thereof. “Why does Harley need hearing aids?” He asked softly as understanding crept in, for the first time that perhaps he was not alone in having a difficult past year.

“Because his hearing is impaired, Mr Parker.”

He sighed. He was sure the AI was not being deliberately unhelpful but mostly likely had some sort of block command on the subject. 

“S’ Peter. How, F.R.I?”

“The common understanding of the situation is that the subject is not spoken about unless Harley initiates or provides permission. On the occasions that these wishes were overridden, Harley has responded negatively.”

So he was right. Desperate to understand, but guilt already creeping in he filed it away for a different conversation. 

“So how do I talk to him?” He looked around for something to throw, unsure he'd actually be able to muster the strength to do so anyways.

“Harley uses a combination of hearing aides, sign language or lip reading to communicate dependent on the situation. He mostly prefers using a device but on certain days when he is not feeling particularly himself, he will choose to not wear them and communicate solely by sign language or simply ignore people completely.” 

Peter snorted. Harley ignoring people was not new, it was nice to know at least something was familiar after all this time. “Always had those moods.”

“Though it is not my place to say, it seems Boss would agree with you on that.” The AI chuckled, a sound Peter was unsure he had heard before. “Would you like me to run some courses?”

His sudden awareness of ignorance feeling all thoughts of rest from his body, he uttered a small “Please.”

By 2am the AI called it quits, threatening to notify Tony.

“Just trying to help, F.R.I. If Harley’s cranky.”

But he had been fighting fatigue for hours, so instead he pulled the sheets up to his chin and turned to face Harley in his sleep. 

Having stayed up late, early, whatever it was called, he woke late with only Tony for company. 

“Sleep alright?” Tony asked as Peter woke.

He lied, and nodded, even though he knew Tony could check up on it at any moment.

“Are you ready to tackle today? How did you feel after yesterday?”

“Was bearable.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a choice word, not one I’m entirely convinced by.”

Peter sighed. “Like getting waxed. Not pleasant, can get through it.”

“When have you ever been waxed?” Tony’s eyes twinkled.

He shrugged. “Ned got curious, brought the grocery strips. Never again.” Peter hesitated, looking down to his legs before looking back up at Tony. “Double dose for the face?” He asked with eyes wide full of hope.

Tony sighed. “We'll do the legs first. Bruce is afraid he’s pushing it as is with your condition and the sedative, but I’m not sure how we’re going to soak your face in the elixir without drowning you. We’re going to have a brainstorm today because we’d like to get it done tomorrow. How about everywhere else?” 

His heart dropped, but he knew it was inevitable. Peter shrugged. “Same same.”

“You seem perkier than yesterday.”

“Slept well. Feel less tired.” He pointed down to the tube in his stomach. “That food?”

“Yeah, it’s not a permanent solution though. Just while you can’t keep anything down and are still malnourished. It's affecting your healing. I’m sorry, I know it’s not pleasant.”

“Not too bad. Please?”

“Alright, Bruce will be in in a moment to give you the sedative, and then we’ll go.”

“Harley coming?”

Tony sighed with realisation. “You noticed that?”

“Could feel it,” he mumbled.

“Aw jeez kid. Let me talk to Bruce, you're not meant to feel anything. We can't keep going like this.”

“S’ fine, I promise. Just want it off, no other option.”

“Alright,” Tony relented. “If your aunt asks, I had no idea.”

Bruce stopped by before he had a chance to see Harley while fully conscious, but he felt the boy slip behind him in the bath, holding him up in more ways than one. Peter relaxed into him, his ears searching for a heartbeat by feel rather than sound as the doctors continued their torture.

He had lied to Tony twice in less than 10 minutes, he thought as they began. This hurt much more than the singular strip he and Ned had simultaneously ripped from each other’s legs. He prayed that Harley had chosen not to wear his hearing aids today as he was unable to stop the whimpers that escaped into his chest.

Luckily, there seemed to be much less suit burnt onto him than his upper body, or perhaps today he was just stronger from the food, but it seemed to be over much quicker than his tose. He felt himself be lifted from the bath, noises beginning to muffle around him as he felt his mind being pulled into a quiet place to dream.

“No, no” he cried out, desperate to fight sleep, not wanting to missing Harley again in this terrible game of awake-tag. But Peter had never been good at sports, and he lost this game.

When he woke, it was Gwen beside him. Her senses all still apparently working optimally, he had barely opened his eyes before she bounded into his bed, snuggling in under the blankets. She placed her head in the crook of his shoulder, her voice right in his ear. The effects of sedation still lingering, Peter could handle the touch.

“Hey you. You’re almost looking normal. Once they get that mask off it’ll be back to ugly though, I hope we're all prepared to look upon your hideous face once more.”

He rolled his head onto hers with a smile, his cheek connecting with her forehead. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Heard people around here have been a bit shady so I just wanted to be real with you, you know. It’s the least I can do. It might scar, you know,” she whispered the last part his fingers gently scraping over the line where the mask met skin.

But Peter didn't care much. Not about that, at least. “Is Harley wearing his aids today?”

“Ahh. That was definitely part of that sly reference. I’m not sure, I don’t think so,” she replied. "We haven't exactly talked much so far."

And it hit Peter, with a soft exclamation.

"What? Peter, what?" Gwen asked, concerned as his face stayed frozen in surprise.

"Oh, just realised." He laughed once and short, the effort pushing on his stomach, not without pain.

"What?"

"Can't hear." He tapped the side of his head. "Hear like I used to. Before the bite."

She scrunched up her nose. "Because Harley can't hear?"

"Yeah, I told you this before."

"I know, but it all seemed a little ridiculous. I was just humouring you when I went along with it, I didn't want you to freak out."

"More ridiculous than this?" He gestured at the two of them lying in the bed.

"For sure. Alternate realities? That I can handle. You? That- I mean, I don't know," She hesitated. "I'm guessing you don't know sign language?"

"Been learning."

"Of course you have,” she grumbled as a screen slid down from F.R.I.D.A.Y. “That's why you look extra gross today, you're too tired. You need to sleep properly you know."

"Have been," he stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth.

"You're a terrible liar. But show me what you know, I’ll test you.”

“Not much,” Peter admitted.

“You’re literally on your deathbed, Peter. I think you can be forgiven.”

But he shook his head, asking F.R.I.D.A.Y. to start.

“You’re as pure as gold,” she said once Peter started to tire again, much too quickly for his liking.

“No I’m not,” he mumbled, sure she could feel the bubble of guilt that started to rise in his chest.

“You are. You are a literal angel, and for that I am grateful because that means I can love you for all eternity,” she said, propping herself up onto her elbow so she could look into her face as she said it.

Peter rolled his head up to stare at the ceiling, the guilt rising further, welling in his eyes and threatening to spill.

“I mean it. I love you Peter Parker, and I always will,” she said as she brought her mouth to his cheek, placing a kiss as soft as a breath.

“Gwen,” he said, his voice cracking in misery. He opened his mouth to speak but a movement at the window caught his eye.

“Aaaaaand, that’s my cue,” Gwen sang, noticing it too. She patted his arm as she sat up and bounded past Harley. “You be good now,” she winked.

Peter stared at Harley a moment, who remained in the doorway with his arms crossed. He swallowed under the gaze, a blank stare, not the peaceful lax expression he wore while sleeping. 

_You slept through the movie,_ Peter signed, blinking away the tears that he wanted to blame on Gwen.

Harley scowled darkly as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms, then one leg as if his arms didn’t say enough. He'd stayed up so late, practiced so many times, he hope he'd got it right in the most important of exams.

"I'm sorry," Peter rasped out as Harley stood silent, his eyes growing sharper by the moment, shocked at the reaction. Harley shook his head, his jaw set as he tapped on his ears before folding his arms back again. He glared at Peter, his fingers curled tightly around his biceps, appearing white, as he waited.

Peter called F.R.I.D.A.Y to send down a holographic screen, before requesting what he needed. 

_I'm sorry,_ he signed, having learnt it on the screen just a moment before. 

Harley signed back, too fast for Peter, frowning at the blur. Luckily Friday chimed in. "Harley said, 'You should be'."

Peter swallowed down the emotion lodged in his throat. His eyes were still wet from his conversation with Gwen, but filled quickly, though Harley seemed unperturbed. Far from it, this was as furious as Peter had ever seen him. He called up his next phrase on the screen, practicing a few times before turning to Harley, who was watching with dark eyes. He could obviously see what Peter was learning, but he waited until he actually signed it before replying. _I am an idiot._

 _Yeah, you are,_ the AI translated Harley's phase for him. 

"Harley, please," he begged aloud, but the boy just shook his head again, his lips pressed tight.

 _I don't have enough words,_ Peter signed after calling it up on the screen. 

His hands whirled, Peter grateful for Friday's translation. Even without the words, he could see the hurt in Harley's face, in his eyes which dropped their mean mask. _You should. If you had of been here, you would have known enough words. May, Pepper, Tony all do. Even Ned and MJ, I don’t see them much, but they know more than you. Because they were_ here _._ His vulnerability dropped only with his words, his guard back up once he'd finished. He continued his glare at Peter. 

This was not how Peter imagined this. And he had thought about it a lot. Hundreds of scenarios, but none had prepared him for this. The emotion he had swallowed earlier came rushing up, tears flowing freely as he stared at Harley. 

Harley jerked at the sight of Peter crying. _I_ _missed the movie Pete, but you? You missed a whole year_ , he signed. As if he couldn't stand to see his own pain reflected on Peter's face, Harley strode from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

For once grateful that he was alone, Peter let out a shaky breath as the door closed. It was more than that he began to sob. The movement tore at the mask on his lips, ripping it. As blood seeped into his mouth, Peter sat up, desperate to have it gone, to do something, remove all links to what had happened as he tried to pull the mask off with his bare hands. 

It seemed that was enough distress to alert someone, as Tony and May rushed in, the former for the second time that day.

He was still clawing at his face until Tony restrained his arms. In his state, Peter was too weak to even fight him.

“I didn’t want to go, I didn’t. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to come back.”

“I know, I know, honey. Shhhh, you're alright. Oh Peter, what’s brought all this on?” May soothed.

“Harley,” he sobbed as Tony let him go, falling into May. “So angry.”

“Oh love, that’s not on you." He felt her head look towards Tony, jerking slightly. "That’s not your fault, you understand me?”

“No, you don't understand. He’s never been so angry, not to me, not at all.” It was an effort to get the words out, both talking a struggling, but adding crying into the mix was more than he could handle.

“I do understand, Peter. I daresay better than you. Shhh, you're okay.” 

“You got this one?” Tony said to May. She nodded, so he continued, bringing one hand up to pat the back of Peter's head. “Great, I’ll tackle the other one. Next time I see the two of you though, you better be blowing up my labs again. All friendly like.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” May asked once he had settled, still holding him close.

“I don’t even know how he had time to be angry,” Peter sniffled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been like this with May, he must have been just a child. Even with Ben, it had been different. “It was barely a minute.”

“Honey, he’s had a whole year to be angry,” she said, rubbing her hand over his back in large circles.

“I didn’t mean to leave May! I tried-”

“I know, and he knows, but that doesn’t change the fact that you weren't here. And he has a lot of thoughts about it, some sad, some angry, some hurt, all things which he is allowed to be feeling. You being back won't just make that all disappear. I'm sorry, I know it's not what you wanted. But he’s working on it, we all are.”

"I just..." Of all the feelings he had been through since he had been back, this was by far the worst. He could barely describe it as a knife to the heart. No this, felt like mourning. But no one was dead, just time, maybe even friendship. 

"I know," she breathed, as if she could read his mind.

She held him for a moment more, before supporting his neck like a child as she lay him back down to the pillows.

"Thought it would be different."

"It still can be. Like I said, he's working on it. And once you're a bit better, you will have to start too. Because life, especially not for Parker's, is that easy. Relationships take work and effort and a lot of unpleasant emotions mixed in the bag. You've thrown us a bit of a curve ball with all of this but we'll get through it. We can get through anything," she whispered as she brought his hand up to kiss.

Peter nodded, his eyes drying. "Got my super strength from you." 

She smiled sadly at that. "I'll stay until you're asleep. I love you."

The day had spent Peter, sleep quickly tugging at him, and for once he was grateful.


	12. My best friend Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad words in this chapter. I washed my mouth out afterwards, don’t worry. If they offend you, feel free to replace them with fudge and sugar.

He'd done it again.

Ruined everything.

Barely a minute and he'd still managed to light a fire and stick around long enough to watch it all go up in flames.

They licked at his heart, burning guilt, sure to scar just as badly as Peter's body currently.

And he hated himself for it.

It was meant to be a slow motion, fall into your arms kind of moment. Hell, he would have even thrown flower petals as he did so, but instead he had well and truly fucked that. With his savageness and selfishness, he hadn’t even had time to run through Dr Carly’s calming methods in the shock of actually seeing Peter awake and talking.

And now, Peter was laying with tubes in and out of him, his skin being ripped off every day, starving, forced oxygen and food, and Harley had decided to layer his cruel words on top of all of it. Like bad icing on a stale cake. Peter didn’t even like icing but Harley still shoved it in his face. But seeing Gwen, hearing Gwen, that all seemed incomprehensible, that Harley had suffered so much and Peter and Gwen had-

 _No_ , he signed as the door cracked open to reveal Tony.

 _I beg your pardon?_ Tony’s face was a mask of barely controlled anger.Harley was relieved to see a touch of concern, but for him or Peter he couldn’t be sure.

 _Not today,_ he motioned back.

_Uh uh, today of all day’s is the one to face it._

But Harley stayed silent.

_Come on kid. This ain't healthy._

“I’m just ANGRY,” Harley screamed. He kicked at the wall beside his desk, whirling to face Tony. “He just left. He just LEFT. And now he waltzes in with a boy band in tow, and gets to make a joke like nothing happened. And I had this WHOLE YEAR of SHIT, and he just got to hang out with- It ain't fair! ARGH,” Unable to coherently communicate, he brought his fist up, ready to strike the wall he’d just kicked.

Tony was there in a flash. “You hurt yourself, you're liable to do more damage to Pete, too.”

“GOOD.” Harley screamed, specks flying into Tony’s face.

“You don’t mean that,” Tony said quietly, staring him down until Harley’s breathing slowed.

He looked away, hating that Tony was right, wished he could feel vindictive, but the fight left him. Tony dropped his arm and moved into the room, placing himself at Harley’s desk.

“Least I’m feeling something,” he joked weakly, aware that Tony was not to find it funny.

“What was that outburst meant to achieve?”

“You said you wanted to know what I was thinking,” he retorted, being deliberately unhelpful. Tony usually left him alone if he was like this.

“Do you feel better now?” 

“No.”

“Okay. Write it down, because you’re definitely talking to Carly about this.” Harley glared.“You’re being erratic, you’re not sleeping or eating regularly. We need to be prepared if you’re going down that path again, Harley.

He waited, with his hands laced, lifting his thumbs up in quick succession until Harley pulled out his phone, typing furiously. 

“Happy?”

“I’m never happy. Now sit your tush back down, and talk it through. Without yelling, or kicking this time.”

“You heard me,” Harley growled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Without the tantrum.”

Harley breathed through his nose. “It’s fucking bullshit.”

“B minus. Hope that's a draft. Try again.”

“I’m angry. I just woke up one day, and he was gone. And then I had to go through a whole year, a frickin year, and mama and Rose Hill, and he wasn’t there? When he should have been. He said he would be. And I know that he didn't have a good time, yeah, okay, but the first thing he said was that ‘I missed the movie.’? It ain't even funny. I trained him to be funnier than that.”

“Much better,” Tony said once it was clear Harley had expressed as much as he could.

“I don’t feel better.”

“It’s a lot to handle right now, and I’m glad you decided to talk to me about it. Maybe you should also be talking to Peter too.” When he didn't reply, Tony continued. “You’re going to have to eventually. You should just band-aid it.”

“No thank you."

“You lived a year without Peter, smart ass. Do you really want to make it your whole life?”

Harley grunted.

“Well, do you?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it living.” The words lingered in the air.

“Exactly.” 

“Why would I ever take advice from you.”

Tony sighed. “Because if you don’t, I might have to threaten you with Pep. And then I would feel bad about that, especially with May after you as well right now.”

“Peter’s a little snitch,” he gaped. He should have known.

“No, Peter is a young man who is currently in a lot of pain, facing the prospect that part of his family is about to be gone forever, who just wants his friend back. Now your thoughts on your last year are your own and Dr Carly’s, but I don’t doubt that there’s a part of you that can empathise with that.”

And Harley burst into tears.

It was the first time he’d cried in front of Tony, he realised. And it wasn’t just tears, it was hacking coughs, saliva slipping out as he wailed, not even bothering to try to hide anymore.

If he hadn’t thought of it first, the rarity of the situation would have been made obvious by Tony’s apparent awkwardness. He stood up from the desk, sitting on the bed to wrap his arms Harley in a side hug.

But it was enough. Harley leaned into it, letting him cry himself dry, not bothering to unlock from the arms once he had calmed enough.

“Oh god, he’s never going to want to talk to me after that,” he said, on the verge of tears again at the thought.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“I would. He’s a traveled man now. Them worldy people are so much better than us, you know.”

Tony chuckled. “You’re incorrigible. I hope I didn’t teach you that.”

“You did. But I won’t tell Pepper if you won’t. Apparently it’s not a trait she favours in us.”

“Deal. But you gotta promise to talk to Pete.”

“I wouldn't even know what to say.”

“He’s asleep now, so you have time to think on it. You can try tomorrow morning, after your session with Dr Carly, she might be able to help,” he paused, waiting for Harley to fight it, but he nodded. “We’re going to remove his mask tomorrow.”

“I can’t do that. Tony, I can't be there.”

“He wants you there. We’re going to wait for you, Harley.” 

Harley nodded as there was a knock on the door. Tony stood, opening it, before raising his eyebrows back at Harley.

“It seems you have a queue. Next time let's try another way to get popular. Maybe pancakes.”

Harley nodded again as Tony left, wiping at his eyes as Gwen walked in. 

At this he was shocked, but she seemed comfortable enough to come sit on his bed, rearranging pillows behind her as she brought her knees up to her chest. Until now, they’d not spoken much, civility at best, but now that she was here, so intimate, Harley wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Peter seemed pretty upset, so I figured you would be too," she started.

Harley looked away as her eyes traced the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t tell you?” 

“I didn’t talk to him. I mighta heard some of it though, I didn't mean to,” she confessed. “May was in there but I know Pepper’s out so I wanted to make sure you had someone too.” Under his questioning gaze, she added. “You know, in case you needed a hug. I can’t imagine Tony is the comfiest person.”

He wished he hadn’t already spoken, he could feign ignorance, especially with Gwen who he was sure didn’t know sign language. It was so much easier to control his hand movements and his face, then his voice. Sometimes he really was an idiot.

“I don’t understand. I thought you guys were close, this whole time you’ve been so attentive, but the moment he’s actually awake you leave?”

“I’m not the one who left.” He wanted to slide some malice in, but at Tony’s words he made his tone soft instead.

“Oh,” she said in understanding. “You shouldn’t punish him for that, Harley. He fought tooth and nail not to get sucked in. And once he did, the whole time I knew him, his only goal was to get home, to get back to you.”

Harley stayed silent. Of course it was true, he didn’t need Gwen to tell him that. Hearing it again was simply like nailing the coffin shut.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I do, I just- it’s not just him. It’s like I don’t know how to be around him now that he’s actually back, you know?”

“I mean, he just wants you. He _needs_ you. So just be Harley?” She said, her bottom lip pouted in confusion.

“I just, I don’t even know who that is anymore. And I need to learn how to compose myself, to not get in the way of you and Peter, if you don’t have much time left. Or figure out how to get you to stay,” he failed to level his voice.

She paused a moment, still confused. “Bloody boys! You absolute idiot!” She said as realisation sunk in a second time. “You _could_ hear us.”

Harley flushed as he was exposed.

“Oh you dick. You shouldn’t have been so mean to Peter, you could have just talked to him rather than made him struggle with sign language when he was trying so hard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harley mumbled, afraid he had met his match in Gwen.

But she wasn’t vindictive despite her previous words. “And I guess that’s a bit of karma for you, but now it’s hurt Peter too. I know what you heard, Harley. And it’s true. I love Peter, I do, with all my heart and everything more. And I’m going to take you up on that offer of time, because I’m greedy.” She paused, her hand on Harley’s as he saw tears beginning to form. “I love him, for who he is, and the reminder of who he is. My Peter,” she breathed. “My best friend, who died, because I couldn’t save him, who I got to watch die, who I’ve had to live without. Surely you understand that, Harley, the loss of a best friend. The loss of Peter. So I’m not going to apologise for that. To either of you.”

She reached forward to take his hand in hers. It was tiny, Harley almost afraid he could crush it but as she gave him a small squeeze he was reminded of her strength, both physical and otherwise. 

“Peter also understands, and he’s been brilliant. At both giving me time, and reminding me that I’m not the Peter I want him to be. Not that I care, because I never thought I’d get a blessing like this, not after all I’ve done. So I’m going to tell him I love him every second of the day if I get the chance.”

She stood, and Harley knew exactly where she was headed.

As she reached the door she turned back, “I suggest you do too.”

May’s discussion, though the shortest, was the most painful.

“I just want us to be a family again, Harley,” she said as she leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead. He kept his eyes trained on her shoes, both undeserving of the kiss and not wanting to meet her eyes.

He nodded, “Me too.”

“I know, love. I know.”

And she left.

Harley didn’t sleep well that night even in the comfort of his own bed. He tossed and turned, wondering if Peter was doing the same. Sighing as the light shone through under his curtains, he laced both hands behind his head as the dread of the day started to creep in. He took a deep breath, trying to organise his brain in any sort of fashion to prepare himself for the day.

First, he tried to decide what he was going to say to Carly. He was almost relieved that it was early in the day, otherwise he’d spend the whole day being anxious over it, working himself into a frenzy and eventual 'mess' as Tony liked to call it. On the other hand it was simply exhausting going to therapy. Especially when he'd now not slept at all and still had to face Peter, both in apology and trying to procedure off his mask as well. 

Harley meant it when he said he wasn't sure if he could be there for it. It was unspoken that this would be the most painful, even with Bruce's medicine.

Though he'd tried to avoid this mental state, he'd worked himself up so much that he felt nerves in his stomach. These were normal at the thought of seeing Peter on a given day, but the thought of today made him physically sick. Not just an expression, unfortunately as he tottered back from the bathroom.

He bounced his leg in an effort to release the energy until it was time to see Carly, forgoing the breakfast he knew he wouldn't keep down. It wasn't enough, his leg continuing to jiggle as he faced his therapist.

His conversation with Carly went much like his conversation with Tony the day before. It was nothing she didn’t already know, except that in addition to his usual trauma there came the mix of emotions of Peter being back, being alive and awake. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright.”

“That’s not a word we use here.”

He sighed. “Angry. Sad. Frustrated. Confused. Guilty. Annoyed at myself.”

“Why were there no positive words in there?”

“Because I’m not feeling very positive right now.”

“That shouldn’t stop you from searching for a positive element in a situation, Harley. We’ve talked about it this.”

"I didn't really think about it."

"Why not?"

He shut his eyes as she questioned. This was the most common topic of their sessions, his lack of ability to see the world other than a deep dark black whole designed to cause him pain and suffering. Even though her tone and expression was far from it, it always made him feel like a failure, to not remember such a simple task.

“I guess I’m just, like, a bit overwhelmed right now.”

“By?”

“I already told you,” he groaned.

“Be more specific.”

“Right now, mostly guilt." She waited, Harley knowing she wanted more. "I turned the sound back on because I was missing things, but then I learnt things I didn’t want to know. So that was my fault. But then it turns out I was wrong, because I didn’t want to actually talk to anyone about it. Again, my own fault. But as a result I hurt Peter, so again my fault.”

“What have we been learning here that might help you with those thoughts.”

“Life, mistakes, guilt, it’s all going to happen. I just need to accept it, act on it, and move forward to be better.”

“You said right now. What were you feeling yesterday?”

“I thought I was angry but I guess it was still mostly guilt. Because I want Peter to myself, and so far I haven’t got that. And it seems everyone else has.”

“So we’re here. Your words make it sound like you're accepting it. But I know how powerful your words can be even if you don't mean them. Do you feel like you’re going to accept it?”

“Not right now. But, like, I do more today than yesterday. So maybe in time.”

“I'm glad you are not expecting everything to be instantaneous. Some things do take time and work. Have you thought on how you might act on both your feelings and your actions once you accept it?”

“I started an apology, to Peter. About the words that I said and why I said them, and how I’ll try not to act like that in the future.”

“Have you thought about an apology to yourself?”

“Um, not really."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think I deserve one," Harley sighed.

"You are prioritising Peter over yourself. Why is that?"

"Gee, I wonder," he drawled, giving her a pointed look.

"You won't be able to help Peter if you are not able to care for yourself Harley."

"Maybe later. I’m struggling with just this one apology actually, can you help me with it?”

“I know what you want from me, but if I help you with the words, the meaning, they won’t be your own if anyone else gets a say. It won’t hold the same truth. Peter likes honesty, and I think he’d sense it, especially from you. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it will be the most helpful going forward. I’ll give you some time now to work on it.”

Harley thought for a while, before asking to continue.

“So what are the positives of the situation? Take you time, I know this part is difficult for you.”

“Um. Well I think he can stay awake longer, which means he’s getting stronger. And he still wants me to help today, so I guess he doesn’t completely hate me. And he tried to learn sign language, even though he’s like really sick.”

“Those are all positives about Peter. What are some about you?” 

Harley hated this bit the most. “The good things about Peter reflect on me though. Like I’m happy, less worried about those things. Getting angry made me talk to Tony, I feel like we jumped a hurdle there. And I spoke to Gwen, which was nice.”

“That’s quite a few, wouldn’t you agree?”

Harley frowned. He hadn't thought of it that way. “I’m still nervous about having to see him again though.” 

She chuckled. “That only makes you human, Harley.”

With a sigh he walked out of the lounge, his stomach once again churning.

It turns out he needn’t have worried. Or worried more. The Med-Bay was empty except for Tony, waiting to escort him to the bathroom again.

“We wanted a head start,” he explained. “We've been trying to soak for an hour now. We hope if he’s in the elixir for longer it’ll be easier to remove the mask and dampen the pain. We ran some simulations but Bruce can’t put him under fully, his blood pressure is still too low to handle that much of a dose,” he sighed. “So no matter what, it’s going to hurt. All of us.”

Harley nodded.

“Wanna turn your sound off?” Tony nudged as they neared.

“Don’t think it’s going to make a difference.”

They entered the bathroom, this time Peter was lying in the tub but there was only enough water up until his ears. The half of his face that was covered with the mask was now covered by a damp cloth, changed to another by Bruce as the pair walked in.

Harley looked around as if to ask them for a moment, he had to speak to Peter now or he would lose his nerve, but his resolve fell once he saw that Peter was already sedated. Anything now would totally not count, and he’d have to go through it all again once Peter woke up. He was barely sure he could get through it once.

“In you hop, Harley,” Dr Cho clipped as he stood there.

“Uh, how do you want to do this?” He asked, aware that if he held Peter up by the chest that he’d be so far from the elixir.

She grimaced, the same thought. “Peter agreed to it. Just hold him up, hold onto him while we do the front and side of his face, then we’ll roll him onto his side to get the back. We’ll keep soaked cloths on the parts until we’ve reached them.

Harley slid in for a third time, not bother to undress. He sat in the small puddle letting Bruce help to pull Peter into the familiar position. He tightened the grip of his right arm fully around Peter’s chest, before trailing his left hand up slowly so Peter would know he was moving to his head. Once his palm rested on his forehead, he gently pressed Peter’s head into his chest in hopes to hold him steady.

And if Harley thought Peter going missing for a year was torture, this short time in his arms far surpassed that.

But it was done. Peter moaned when they tried to move him, and urged by Tony, one by one the adults left the room. Dr Cho handed Harley a bucket full of elixir and more cloths.

“Keep sponging this onto him. I have no idea what it's doing but it seems to be working. I wish we could distribute to the general population, even though it would definitely put me out of a job. We’ll be back in a bit.”

Harley followed her instructions strictly, not forgetting the back of his head, repeating for nearly an hour until Peter stirred in his grip.

“Hey,” Peter mumbled through the sedation, bringing one of his hands up lazily to flop onto the one of Harley’s around his chest.

Any script Harley had memorised went up in flames before him as he once again burst into tears. This was quickly becoming an annoying habit. He was glad Peter couldn’t see him.

“I had this whole apology planned,” Harley cried. “I worked on it for hours. But I guess this is all you’re gonna get for the moment.”

“I’ll take it,” Peter slurred, reaching his other hand round to touch Harley’s wet cheeks. “Was planning on winging mine, but look,” he pulled Harley’s hand to his own face, “get some too.”

“No fair,” Harley’s laugh mixed in with his cry. “Firstly, you got a stimulus for those. And secondly, I don’t even know if they’re real, they could just be the elixir.” He gently squeezed some of the excess of the cloth onto Peter’s cheeks.

“S' real,” he assured him, his hands falling down with the effort.

"It's real," Harley whispered back, continuing to sponge his head. “You don’t need to apologise. But I still do.”

“Nuh uh. Sleep now. But Harley?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay?”

“Or course,” but he wasn’t sure if Peter heard him, or was already in the clutches of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's fluff coming soon, I promise.


	13. Consider me worried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, no fluff yet. Trigger warning for cancer, car accidents, death and blaise attitudes. Obviously everyone reacts differently to events in life, but a lot of these lines are things I’ve actually said in response to these things happening in my own life. Maybe Harley and I are connected?

In his dreams, there was a world of raging fire. It wasn’t just the ground that was on fire but the air, swimming before his eyes. The objects looked like they were waving at him, not hello but goodbye. He looked to his wrists, but they were bare, the skin raw and boiling. Without his webs, he felt helpless, hopeless even, his body weighted to the landscape. He looked to his skin again, gagging at the sight. Just passed his own hands he saw- 

Himself.

Spider-Man.

So still and shriveled.

But no.

He looked closer, the spider symbol was different. The arms a little longer, the legs much skinnier, the eyes so life less-

“Peter?”

He frowned. Sound, not the swirling of hot air around his ears, was so foreign. It had been too long. His eyes lingered on the body a little longer, not wanting to leave, but the sound was too intriguing. He swiveled, searching for the source.

“Peter?”

There was fire in his ears, on his face. Only on one side.

“Peter!”

He sat upright, not fully awake, but not dreaming, this was surely a nightmare. No, a reality. Panting and sweating, he reached up to his face, only feeling wetness. No flames. 

Harley was there, already there, one hand behind his back to support him upright and the hovering over his hand on his face. 

"Peter?" There it was again.

“I-,” he stared at Harley. Why was he here? How? No, no he couldn’t-

Hear?

“Oh.” His eyes slid past Harley, instantly recognising the room. Home.

“What’s wrong?”

His eyes fluttered shut and he swayed slightly, Harley’s arms catching him, lowering him down.

“Nothing. Just hurts.”

“I’ll change the elixir. Tony said we could try Bruce's pills again, they might dull it.”

He was so tired, but he wanted nothing less than for Harley to have to care for him. Harley shook his head as he attempted to prop himself back up onto his elbows. “The nurses have to do it, intravenous. Meant to take them with food, you see.”

Harley moved forward with fresh clothes for his face. Adamant, Peter stuck his hand out to be met with a shaking head. “Don’t be stupid, I’ll do it.”

He wanted to fight it, wanted to keep his eyes open, but Peter was pulled back into sleep.

This time, it was dreamless. Or nightmare less. Harley looked as if he had not moved in all the time. 

“Hey,” Harley spoke softly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” He wriggled his fingers, hoping Harley would catch the motion and meaning.

Ever so gently, fingers slipped into his, Pete sighing in content. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“S’ okay. Worth it.”

“You’re not as pretty as you used to be.”

“You thought I was pretty?”

Had Peter’s eyes been open, he would have caught Harley’s flush. “Was. You’re a right sight with this scar now, darlin’.” 

“Don’t much care.”

“Pete,” he said gently, almost a preparation. “They don’t know if it’ll be permanent.”

“Least I’m here,” he said while opening his eyes. A shadow passed Harley’s face. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

“They don’t know if it’s permanent because you ain’t been talking.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Why are you so sick, Peter. Gwen and Tiger said no one else had the same symptoms as you from jumping, though glitching doesn’t look fun.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 

“I don't really want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He paused a moment. “Don’t have to talk about it.” He slipped his fingers from Harley’s. _We can sign it instead._

Harley gave him a pointed look.

“What? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, was that insensitive? Thought you would find it funny.”

He stared at Peter a moment longer, but seemed to be unable to keep down his own grin. “I do. Just don’t say anything like that in front of May or Pepper. They don’t seem to find it as funny.”

“Mr Stark?”

“Depends on if he thinks it’s actually hurtful. Go for it with Ned though, he’s a savage.”

“My ears are burning,” Tony said as he entered the room.

“Wow, gee, Tony, that’s a little insensitive don’t you think?” Harley said dryly, winking at Peter as he relaxed into the chair.

“Don’t give me that crap kid. I heard you before,” Tony admonished Harley, the boy ducking his head as he grinned. “Sleeping beauty finally awakes then?”

“Hope no one kissed me,” Peter gagged as he played along. “But I hear I’m not much of a beauty anymore.”

“Sure we can fix that up if it comes to it. Make you look like me, give the whole world a gift.” He looked over Peter once. “How are you actually feeling? Been a while since your last dose. Want some more?” 

“No. They make me sleepy.”

“No, that’s just your body trying to heal itself from whatever’s going on. Harley?”

“He said it hurt before,” he piped as Peter shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Alright I’ll ask Cho to set up a regular dose. God, what is with you kids? All of you, actually. Tiger took a ‘small stabbing’, as he called it, without saying anything. ”

“Where is he?”

“Went out for a swing. Been itching, I think. I don't mind, it’s good for the people to see Spider-Man back. Laying the groundwork for you when you're ready, only don’t tell your aunt I said that.”

“What did you tell people?”

“Oh god, I was hoping your aunt could do this bit. But you’re not gonna settle until we do this, are you?”

Peter shook his head, but kept his eyes on Tony. He could feel Harley's gaze but with an audience, he didn't trust himself.

“Spider-Man, that was, I guess the easier bit. We let him holiday for a bit, just in case it was a ransom or something similar. It soon became apparent that it wasn't and by then it had come out that you were also missing. I didn't want people to link up that you were missing at the same time, just in case you came back, you might still want that. There was also your aunt to consider. So I just set up some bots, sporadically, varying times. It wasn't my best work, I'll be honest. It was close enough, for a short time, but I didn't quite get your smart mouth right and people weren't happy with the crime rate, so he just... Went into retirement. God, it really does sounds awful when you say it like that. And yeah. A lot of people are a bit unhappy. Tiger's on a bit of damage control right now, seeing as your whole comeback was televised."

“You, not so much the easy bit. He stopped pacing, settling on Peter's bed. "I, unintentionally of course, managed to bring a bit of attention to your disappearance. I didn’t even realise until after the media had released it, wasn’t on top of my game, you know. But it was quite convenient, in the worst kind of way. Not to cash in on your misfortune, but there had been a few kids gone missing with rare and incurable diseases leading up to you. The media got hold, as only leeches manage. They found out about your little episodes just before. They apparently put two and two together, finding that you were just the last of a long line. All bull for us, but it was convenient enough to buy enough cover. And it actually helped bring attention to the rest of the kids you know? A bit too much so, they started curfews and things like that. It didn’t help, kids kept disappearing and not just sick ones after a while."

Peter digested the information, almost as well as he had recently been able to keep down his meals. Tony seemed to notice.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?”

“Missing kids?”

“Teenagers, all between 14 and 17.”

“With incurable diseases.” Tony nodded at the statement. “Were any of them found?”

“There was one, a body, in a river. Thought it was you for a while, actually, hand some funky DNA. But other than that, no. All still just faces on a milk carton.”

Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek. He willed his mind to race with the information but it stalled as if so often did lately. Harley caught on, slipping his hand back into Peter's.

"Whatcha thinking?" He nudged.

"Not thinking anything. Brain's foggy."

"Don't try too hard. You might actually hurt yourself." None of them were sure if Harley was teasing or not.

"We got time, Peter," Tony agreed.

Peter sat in silence, trying to organise his brain, until Bruce walked in.

"What's up Doc?" Tony chuckled, but stopped short at the look on his face.

"I just want to preface this with that everything should be okay. I have a solution, and if that doesn't work then I have several others."

Peter swallowed under Bruce's gaze, but nausea bubbling when Tony joined in.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this?" Tony asked him sternly.

Peter shrugged imperceptibly.

"I was worried why his white blood cells were so low. Just on a hunch, a few of the other symptoms, I ran over Peter's suit, revisited a few blood tests. 

"And?"

"I used a Gieger counter, Tony. Amongst other things."

"Fucking hell, Peter," Tony groaned as Harley ripped his hand from his.

Peter’s face fell. Only minutes before, he had been ready, to talk to Harley, he thought. But this, his sudden audience, his face was on fire again. He looked to the ground, but the only Peter was in his bed. No suit, it was just him. As the silence dragged on, Tony prompted.

"What's with the radiation, kid?"

“Well, there was this spider-”

“Cut the crap.”

They stared each other down, Peter refusing to break first.

"Tiger never said anything about radiation in any of the worlds he knew about, Peter. So was it the first world? Did you jump into a nuclear playground?" Peter didn't need to nod. "So seven months. Give or take, seeing as we don't know if time works the same."

Harley looked as if he had been slapped, but Bruce didn’t seem surprised, as if he had expected it.

"I only took the suit off once," Peter said timidly. "Before I realised."

"And that was very clever. Had you not put it on again between worlds. That, and the explosion during your last jump molding it to your open skin from the moment you landed back. 85% of decontamination can come from clothing alone." 

"I was jumping through worlds, Bruce. I didn't know anything."

Bruce mulled it over. "Did you ingest anything while there?"

"Why are you asking if you already know?"

"Fair enough but I just needed to make sure. The medication for that is not something to play with."

"Only at the start. It wasn't much."

Tony cut in. "So you're telling me, the you knew you took a dip in a nuclear power-plant, ate some goop and didn't bother to tell anyone, letting us keep you in a cocoon of radiation for four days? You didn't want to give anyone a heads up? Not even when you were vomiting up your organs? God, how am I raising idiots?"

“Whilst I don’t agree with his tone or words, I do agree with his meaning, Peter." Bruce interrupted Tony calmly. "If I didn’t have a treatment, I wouldn’t be so calm. This could have been particularly dire. But luckily, with the suit gone and your healing rate no longer as impaired as it was in the different worlds, we can try some potassium iodine, radiogardase and DTPA to see which will work best. With your healing rate, now that you're not constantly exposed, you might even be back to eating soon.” 

“See Mr Stark? It's fine, I'm fine,” he made himself small, praying that somehow that would make it all okay. 

"Are you kidding me?"

"You don't need to worry."

“CONSIDER ME WORRIED!” When Peter flinched he continued. "Do you know what the side effects of prolonged exposure to radiation are? Do you know how it will affect your body?" Tony moved to Harley’s side, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He signed something to the boy, too fast for Peter, a quick nod in response.

"I've begun fabricating a synthetic bone marrow treatment to try should we need, but I'm confident in my first interventions." Bruce said, reaching to the IV bags. "Helen is too," he said looking to Tony. "So for now, I think we should let him rest."

They exited, Tony not even saying goodbye as he shut the door.

“Are you going to yell at me too?” He asked to Harley once Bruce had left.

Harley hesitated. “I want to,” he said quietly.

“I-”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Pete.”

“It’s fine. You heard Bruce, he’s got a fix it.” 

“He can’t fix everything, Peter.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re more than that, you’re, you’re-” he struggled.

“Why are you so upset?”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME PETER?” He steadied himself, pressing into the corners of his eyes. “Go to sleep. You’re tired. We can talk about this later.”

“I’m not, no Harley, I’m not.”

“Just have a nap. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what I said. Then I got sucked into a wormhole.”

“Like you said, you’re an idiot. I, however, am not. Just please, please sleep.”

Peter’s nap turned into another deep sleep, and by the time he had woken again it was dark. Harley was still in the chair, book in hand.

Peter patted the bed beside him, shifting as much as he could.

Harley eyed it and for a moment his heart clenched, worried that Harley was still angry. At him. That’s all he seemed to be doing lately, making everything worse for Harley.

But Harley’s hesitancy was one of concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Peter frowned, trying to focus on his body, but it was blurry, almost dull. He glanced up to the IV bag. “Drugs,” he slurred with a grin.

Harley huffed air out of his nose. “And here’s Pepper and May thinking I’m the rebellious one,” he grumbled as he put his book down. He moved around to Peter's good side, avoiding the bubbled skin. Harley stayed, not as Peter had hoped into his arms, but on his back.

“Sorry I upset you.”

Harley grunted in response.

“I don’t... That first world,- It wasn’t- it, I-” 

"Do you know what radiation can do?"

"Of course I do. I just- I didn't know, I-"

“Mama had cancer, Pete.”

This stopped Peter. "I- Is she..” He struggled. “Is she okay?” Peter finally settled on.

“Six feet under. So yeah, I guess she’s actually doing better than she was.”

Peter didn’t know what to say as his heart broke for Harley. He understood why they didn't speak of it, why Harley was so protective, but he wished someone had prepared him. 

“Abbie too,” Harley continued quietly. “Buried my hearing with her.”

“What? Harley, what do you mean?”

“Just after the funeral, played a game of chicken with a truck and I guess it won. Abbie died and I woke up deaf. End of.”

Peter gaped.

“Harley, I-”

“I said end of.”

“No it’s not. Come here.”

He opened his arms to let Harley slip in but he jerked back. “Um, ouch.”

“Are you still radioactive?” Harley eyed him.

“I’ve always been radioactive.”

“No like, look as ugly as you, kind of radioactive.”

“That’s not how it works, Harley.”

“You apparently don't know anything about radiation." But he relented. "I better get superpowers from this,” he muttered as he slipped into Peter’s arm, almost wary, as if he would crush him.

“That would be terrifying, the power would go to your head. You’d definitely be a bad guy.” He said as he ran his arm up and down Harley’s back, hoping they would say the words Peter struggled with before.

“I’d beat you so easy though. Then I’d rule the world.”

“Comforting to know that’s the first thing your head goes to.” He sighed, settling his hand in Harley’s hair. "I'm sorry I don't know what to say."

"No one ever does. You don't gotta apologise for it."

It felt wrong not to. “I’m sorry about your family.”

“Still have one,” Harley said quietly.

“That’s… a very mature way of looking at it.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t want to be like this, Parker,” he turned his head up to Peter indignantly. “It’s all my therapist’s fault. She’s wormed her way in, twisted my mind, she’s trying to make me into a good person, would you believe?”

“You were always a good person, Harley.” Peter chuckled.

“Not like this. This is like, next level villainy, I tell you, Pete, she’d beat us both. She’s even won against Tony. When you feel better, you should try. If not for yourself then to defend my honor. The unthinkable horrors, the things she does in our sessions, they’d haunt you for days. Tony doesn’t believe me. In fact, I think he’s paying her to torture me like this,” he said with mock seriousness.

“Enlighten me on these horrors.”

“Well, for starters, she makes me face the deepest parts of myself.”

“I’d say that’s kind of the point.”

“No thanks. There are some things I’d like to remain uncovered, even by me. Why do you think I spent so much time building them walls. She’s trying to convince me that I’m good but I keep warning her the deeper she dips, the closer she’s gonna get to unleashing a monster. The real Harley.”

“Shock. Gasp. Oh no, not the real Harley,” Peter giggled.

“You laugh. But just you wait. Don’t think they ain’t gonna make you talk to her too. Then you’ll see. Then you’ll understand.” He settled further into Peter’s chest. “You can ask Pepper about it, if you wanna know more.”

It took Peter a moment to realise that Harley wasn't talking about therapy anymore. “Thank you.”

“But only if you tell me the big bad about you.”

“Not now,” he murmured, exhausted tho he barely felt he’d comforted Harley at all. 

Bruce’s intervention was almost immediate, though in part that might have been Harley pressed against him, finally. 

The weight left Peter’s side as Harley slipped out the next morning, more willing than Peter would have liked. Just as Peter had asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to send for Pepper, she walked in. 

“Harley said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s about Harley.”

“Ah.” She settled onto the bed halfway down, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Peter was struck, as he always was by her presentation. Not just her neatly pressed clothes, or her hair which settled in a way May’s never could, but in the very way she carried herself. She perked an eyebrow up as she caught him staring.

“I missed you too, you know.”

“I don’t doubt. Me too. But you’re back now. We can all breathe a little easier.”

“Has he been okay?

“Not really. But I have hope.” She paused. “Did he tell you what happened?”

“In not so many words. Probably about four.” When she frowned, he explained. “Cancer, car crash, deaf, finished with a nice ‘end of’.”

Pepper sighed. “That boy, I swear. Loquacious to a fault.” She looked to her folded hands for a moment, flipping them over. When she looked up, it was to the side and Peter saw tears forming. “It was a bit more than that, Peter. Harley’s mother got very sick, very quickly. It was quite a shock. By the time we knew, she’d mostly lost all ability to function by herself. She needed full time care for everything. I know Keener’s like their independence, they don’t like to ask for help, so I think it was, strangely out of everything, the hardest part for them all.” 

She pursed her lips a moment. “Tony tried to bring her here, he offered her the world, but she just wanted to be at home. I guess in the end it wouldn’t have helped any. I don’t blame Rose Hill, but sometimes I wonder. But I also wonder if it just would have been crueler, to all of us, to draw it out. She already died a woman Harley didn’t recognise.” 

The tears couldn’t hold back any longer. “He was never particularly fond of Rose Hill anyway, but this? He couldn’t bear the thought of Abbie having to grow up there, in that house, and what were they to do? Harley couldn’t move back, he was still so young himself. So they were going to come live here, Tony and I had discussed it with his mother right at the start. Abbie had a place at Visions, a future.” 

“We all went to the funeral. It was rather long and unpleasant, more of a town event than an actual funeral which irked us city folk. We all left early, but I think Abbie and Harley just wanted one last slice of normality and the chance to grieve for their childhood as well as their mother. So we let them drive back by themselves, not a day goes by that Tony doesn’t regret it. He’s turned to medical funding and research, a little selfishly but I know that Haley’s hearing is a constant reminder.” 

Pepper stopped herself from getting off track. “Abbie wanted to bring his mama’s truck back. Which was no match for the semitrailer. It just, the driver fell asleep and ended on the wrong side of the highway, they all rolled into a ditch. The truck ended mostly on top of them, pinning them.” 

She took a moment, which turned into an eternity, so Peter hesitantly prompted her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear much more, but Harley had sat through his own worst moments, and Peter wasn’t there for him, so he owed it to him. 

“He said he woke up deaf.”

Pepper shook her head sadly. “He wasn’t asleep. None of them could move, there was no shape that resembled a car when they cut them out. With no phones, it took so long for another car to even pass, to get help, but by then...” She exhaled. “The emergency personnel said that the driver died on impact, but Abbie? With her injuries, it was unlikely, it was probably a time factor.”

“Oh.”

“Harley won’t talk about it, not even to Dr Carly I don’t think. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could handle it if he did, but I would try. I’m glad it’s the one thing he doesn’t joke about. ”

Peter understood her tears, reaching one hand out to ruin the perfect picture in her lap.

“Harley had a lot of head trauma, his head went through-. Actually I, I don’t want to get into details, sorry. Tony’s not much better with it, but perhaps we can try another day if you’d still like to know. But he was very injured, and dealing with the loss of his mother, his sister, and you. Which we hadn’t quite got a handle on. Truthfully, I think he coped better with his family because it was definitive. But with you, we had no idea. May and Tony refused to let us bury you, and I know Tony had files around, his own investigation which no doubt Harley got in to.” 

Pepper finally looked at Peter and tsked at his expression. “I don’t say this to make you feel guilty, Peter. I say it to make you understand. Harley, in every sense, is my son now, and I won’t, I can’t let anything else hurt him.” 

She sighed. “I had hoped he’d be at a stage now where he was ready to talk about it himself but honestly allowing me to talk to you is quite a large step, so I’ll be grateful for that. He seems to like Dr Carly, he’ll talk to her at least, so once you’re settled a bit more we’ll organise for you to start too.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“What do you mean?”

“Not to be big headed but I feel like she might already know a lot about me.”

“There’s no shame in accepting help, Peter. These situations are beyond what anyone could deal with.”

“I know that. I’m not saying no.”

“Good. Because I dragged Harley kicking and screaming for far too many months. After the accident the little jerk used to just turn off his hearing aids whenever he wanted. It aged me about 20 years, and I don’t like to think where another 20 would take me.”

“You’d still be Pepper. And Harley’s still Harley.”

“And you’re still our precious Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't like this chapter, won't worry neither did I. But it played in my head so much I just couldn't move on until it was released into the wild.
> 
> Fluff in the next chapter, I promise. Or do I? Yeah I do.


	14. Screw you Parker, you owe me

Peter slept so soundly it was unnerving. With the fucking bomb, quite literally, that Bruce had decided to drop that after afternoon, Haley found himself unable to sleep himself. He nuzzled his head to Peter’s chest to seek a heartbeat but it was uncomfortable with his aids. Figuring he would get no sleep either way, he resigned himself to sitting up and to watch Peter breathe all night. Every so often his eyes wandered to the tubes, then back to Peter’s chest immediately just to reassure himself.

The longer he looked at Peter, the less he wanted to. And all of a sudden, he wasn’t looking at anything at all. Harley came to slumped on Peter’s stomach and at that point he knew he had to leave.

He raced past the kitchen on his way out, stumbling a little as he noticed movement. It was early, of course Pepper was awake.

One hand on the door frame he breathed out, “Can you talk to Peter?”

He startled her enough to spill her coffee. “You gave me such a fright! What about?”

“Just-. Thanks.” He nodded, already moving, but Pepper called him back.

“Harley? Are you okay? Where on earth are you off to?”

“Going for a run.”

“You don’t run.”

He shrugged, bouncing on his feet.

“Just around the compound yeah? Not too far.”

“Yeah,” he breathed again, already racing down the hall.

He ran, not even sure which direction he was going, but it was almost as fast as the day through New York. He kept moving until he couldn't think of anything else, black spots blurring his vision instead of the image of Peter. He didn't stop, not until he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t feel his feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes, that would have helped, he was surprised Pepper hadn’t caught it.

He slowed at the sight of Tony, the darkness edging away but he still saw Peter connected to all the machines, blood everywhere, burnt skin.

“Nice day for it. You wanna talk?” Tony spoke as he sat on the steps, his own coffee in hand.

“Can’t,” Harley panted in return, doubled as he tried to breathe in over an hours worth of oxygen he had just spent.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

He glared at Tony, still heaving for breath. “Physically. Can’t.”

Tony shrugged, sipping as he waited until Harley had recovered himself enough.

“If you wanna run, let me know. I’ll buy you some proper shoes. No point wearing out your feet too,” he said as Harley took to the steps beside him.

“God no. Never again. Why do people willingly do that to themselves?”

“So why did you do it?”

“Ever heard of running from your problems? Thought I’d give it a go.” Tony didn’t laugh. “Panic attack. I think I double negatived my not being able to breathe by combining panicking and exercising. And then my brain was so confused as to why I was actually running so I didn’t have time to freak out about what I was originally freak out about. Ergo, cure.”

“That happen a lot?”

“You know it does.”

“I know. But it makes me feel a little better that you actually say it, to me. Feels like you want to talk to me.”

“I don't not want to talk to you. I just, don't even want to talk to myself."

"That's generally a good thing."

Harley rolled his eyes, but there was no fight. "Sorry. I think I just got overwhelmed after yesterday. I didn’t expect that.”

“You said you were okay.”

“I was, and then I wasn’t. That's allowed to happen."

"It is."

"I couldn’t sleep and he was just so still, you know. For such a long time.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” he wriggled his toes, finally regaining some feeling.

“Well you’ll be happy to know that Cho and Bruce did a blood test this morning. Even overnight, his results are so much better. By the end of the week it will hopefully be no more than if he had a few x-rays. Loads of people recover from radiation exposure, we'll just add him to the list. He’s gonna be okay.”

“You didn’t want to lead with that?”

“Then we wouldn’t have had this lovely chat. You would have just run off again.”

“Nah,” he nudged at Tony with his shoulder. “Never running again.” He paused, staring to his fingers. “What about in the long term, though.”

Tony sighed. “Harley, none of us know the future. And with his DNA, it’s not like we knew anything anyway. But I do know that his healing is unlike anything we’ve seen, and now Cho and Bruce are clued in they can keep an eye on him. But you know we’ll do everything, and more if we need.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“You should probably shower though. You’re not going to win any hearts looking or smelling like that.”

“You’re meant to tell me that people should love me for who I am.”

“No, that’s Peppers job. I’m here to keep you grounded. Go now, Peter’s still asleep, he might be for a while yet.”

He was halfway to the bathroom before a screech tore through his head, warming his ears. He sighed, swapping them over before showering. By the time he headed to the Med-Bay, it was near midday, Peter only stirring.

“Different aids?” He asked, looking to Harley's ear. Tony had made an ostentatious pair as a joke, red and gold, but Harley actually quite liked them.

"Yeah these ones bring out my eyes more.” Peter laughed. “Nah, I exploded my other ears. Tried to get them to handle too much input and they just went haywire. Tony’s gonna have a shot.”

“What do you prefer to use?”

Harley shrugged. “Depends. Changes. You know me. Gotta keep you all on your toes.”

“I’m not on my toes yet.”

“I’ll give you a pass.” He smiled quickly, but in an instant he was serious. “You got 30 days.”

“Well then you better start teaching me,” Peter said seriously as he struggled to sit up.

“Parker, I was kidding.”

“I’m not. Can you teach me the words I don’t know?”

Harley’s heart warmed. Even more so when he learnt that Peter had already learnt so much, had been practicing hard though he had literally been dying only the day before. So he sat at the end of Peter’s bed, with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. It was amusing, watching Peter’s little pout as he stumbled, slight frustration as he kept forgetting words. He wondered if he was sadistic, as he felt he could keep watching Peter for hours. But Peter didn't have hours. 

“Alright, you’re getting tired. Have a nap,” patting Pete’s leg, he stood, giving him room to stretch out.

 _No, I’m fine. I don’t want to taco._ Pete attempted on his own.

Harley chuckled, rearranging the blankets. He tried to hide his grin, glad Peter was tying and truthfully had made a lot of progress, but he couldn’t keep it down. He found he didn’t want to, either. He wasn’t sure the last time he had laughed, but he knew the last time Peter had made him was over a year ago.

_What?_

_You mean stop, not taco?_

Pete seemed frustrated by the mistake, not finding it as funny as Harley apparently did. _I keep getting those two confused, I don't know why._

 _Neither. It’s a literal taco. See?_ He motioned. 

He waited. _Actually I do. You're an idiot. Maybe you've been an idiot this whole time, and I was just blinded by love._

Peter frowned as Harley squeezed his eyes shut. Love was definitely a word he knew, one of the first he’d learnt, and even without, F.R.I.D.A.Y was translating. Also, Harley definitely didn’t keep it cool with his face. He moved again to speak, but Peter cut him off, asking for the AI’s help. 

_Actually, confusion is a symptom of radiation poisoning, if you cared. Also, you're the idiot. You're such an idiot my body literally developed a 7th sense for your stupidity._

He hadn’t promised to teach Peter sign language for the boy to out sass him. _Yeah, well, you transferred your curse onto me._

_What curse?_

_Parker luck. You know, orphaned, dead family. I'm still waiting for a radioactive pigeon to bite me._

_It wouldn’t be a pigeon, it’d be a goose. And it’d be your own fault._

Rattled by a distant memory, Harley questioned. _What did you mean by extra sense?_

Peter sighed. _Remember how I used to just collapse all the time? Whenever you got hurt._

Harley nodded.

 _I can't hear as well as I used to._

“WHAT?” Harley yelled, but Peter only laughed. 

“I heard that,” he replied. 

“Peter, what the hell?” 

“It's fine. I can still hear, just not to the level the bite used to allow me.”

He paused a moment, wondering how Peter felt about losing his hearing. Deciding to stick with his own method of comic relief until alerted otherwise, Harley smiled as this sunk in. “So no heart beats?”

“No heartbeats.” 

Harley's grin turned devilish, baring his teeth.

“What? Harley, what?” Peter begged. 

“I made some modifications to my Keen Ears. You know, like heartbeats, breathing…” he chuckled. 

It was Peter’s turn to close his eyes, a small exhale. 

_Payback,_ Harley signed once he opened them again, turning the word into the middle finger with both hands. Quite smoothly, he turned his hands around once more to tinkle them goodbye as he sauntered to the door. Unable to resist rubbing it in one last time, he turned back to flash his evil eyes.

“Harley?” Peter’s gaze was serious, piercing through Harley’s soul, he was sure of it. He held it until Harley swallowed dryly before sticking out his tongue. _Love you too_.

Harley all but ran from the room, glad Peter could no longer heart his heart beat. If he even had one right now, that is. Consider him dead, dying, deceased or any of the above.

He hesitated before returning to Peter’s room later that day, torn between needing to make sure he was as okay as the doctors were saying, but also having to face the embarrassment. No, it wasn’t embarrassment, it was more that he was...Yeah fine, embarrassment, he admitted with a sigh.

But Peter was asleep when he got there, and still asleep when he left the next morning, Harley sleeping marginally better. 

It was a mixture of things that found Harley in the lab the next morning. He was restless, and not wanting to make the same mistake with his hands as yesterday. He pulled up Tony’s redesign on his Keen Ears, for the first time in a long time trusting his voice over his hands. Unsure where his original pair was, and not wanting to wake Tony this early he picked a fresh pair and attempted to start again from scratch. His heart wasn’t really in it, but now that he’d alerted Peter to the joke he had no choice but to see it through. If only for his discomfort. Seeing him floundering, flustered like that, for some reason Harley thoroughly enjoyed it. He thought of Dr Carly as he worked.

“Why do you think that is?” She would ask.

“Do you really want me to make a hot and bothered innuendo right now, Doc?” Harley would drawl back. He frowned for a moment. Would he really be that bold? Yes, he decided, and continued talking to Dr Carly. Or himself. He ignored yesterday's Tony, pushing him to the back of his mind.

“It’s more than that, Harley,” she was sure to say. “What does it say about you? Why do you, specifically, enjoy riling him up so much.”

“Maybe I’m just sadistic.”

“Try again,” she would sigh.

And he would finally relent, spilling out the words he knew to be true. “It might be because even though he’s this super hero who saves people and New York it reminds me that he’s still actually human and has feelings and can’t do everything and is just regular awkward Peter. And that I shouldn’t compare myself to Spider-Man, or anyone, that I can still be myself and someone will love me for it cuz there I am watching Peter and loving him even with his humanity.”

Dammit, he scrunched his nose. Therapy was maybe working too well, though he made several mental notes not to let Pepper know.

His internal monologue with himself was cut short, looking at his watch he realised it was near lunch, much later than he intended.

“Are you avoiding me?” Peter asked, standing in the doorway of the lab.

Harley tapped the side of his head before signing. _Still no ears._ He frowned as he realised the sight. _You’re walking? Should you be up?_

“I feel heaps better. Cho’s given me a 10 minute escape. We’re gonna try some food later, if you wanna hold a bucket for me.” He paused, before continuing. “You can read lips though, F.R.I.D.A.Y said? You were just being mean that first night.”

 _You deserved it,_ Harley sighed, but nodded. “I don’t like to, though,” he spoke aloud.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s generally when I’m not wearing my aids. It gets confusing easily and usually means I have to talk. And I don’t like talking when I can’t hear myself, it makes my voice sound weird.” Also, reading Peter’s lips was distracting. Very distracting. But he didn’t need to know that.

“No it doesn’t.” Peter cocked his head to the side. “It just makes your accent come through, makes it really thick. I like it. It reminds me of when you first came here. When things were easier.”

Trying to hide his blush with a scowl, he shot back as he stood. “You’re just lazy. You don’t want to learn to sign.”

Peter laughed, his eyes lighting up. “I am trying. But I miss your voice."

"Maybe this isn't about you."

Peter frowned. "What do you mean."

"Don't make me call you out for ableism, Parker."

"Well, maybe you should. Serve me right for not being there."

Harley sighed. This is not what he wanted. "Why don't we just call it even. My trauma, your trauma, they cancel each other out."

"That's not how it works, Harley," Peter pouted.

"Ohmygod, Pete, what do you want from me then?"

"I want to hear your voice."

Harley exhaled through his nose, but Peter stepped forward.

"I want to hear your heartbeat and breathing."

Harley’s blush was now ferocious, both by Peter’s words and the shape his lips were making, inching closer to his own with each step. He was suddenly aware of his previous thoughts, wishing the words ‘hot’ and ‘bothered’ were not running through his mind right now.

“Actually, it’s not the only thing I want.”

“What do you mean?” Harley swallowed.

Another step.

“I mean not just your voice.”

“You said that.”

“A year is a long time to think,” Peter said, finishing the distance between them.

“Try three years,” Harley said back softly.

“That’s what I thought,” Peter said, so quietly his lips barely moved, but Harley still caught it, only having to stare just past his nose at the proximity.

But Peter seemed insistent on getting even closer.

“We make a pretty good team, don’t cha think?”

Harley wasn’t even aware that he had made a sound until Peter pulled back slightly, laughing. Aware that it was probably something close to a whine, he wasn’t about to allow himself to be one upped. Harley snapped his head forward to bring their lips back to their previous proximity, his desire to mess with Peter overcoming the warning bells in his head, the nerves pulling at his stomach.

“So you’re only cool when you’re in control, huh?” He mumbled as Peter’s body stiffened. He could feel his breath on his face as Harley continued to watch his lips. Peter licked them, under the freckles Harley could see a tinge of blush, much like his own. He smirked. “You got something to say to me, wise guy?”

"Um-" if Harley had his aids in, he would have noted the crack in Peter's voice.

“Good. Cuz I can think of something else those lips could be doing.”

“Harley,” Peter mouthed, placing his index finger under his chin to force his eyes up. “I-”

Desperate to keep his persona of bravado which was faltering as time went on, he growled, “Screw you, Parker, you owe me.”

And he crashed their lips together.

Harley was very aware that he moaned this time because Peter opened his mouth in response. 

All doubts of Peter even wanting this were thrown out the window as Harley felt his lips hungry against his own. For so long Harley had imagined this, and yet somehow no situation had ever popped up like this, nothing had prepared him for how good this felt, how right, how soft Peter’s lips were against his. Impossibly soft as his super strength pushed at Harley’s mouth, knowing that some part of his face could very possibly be bruised tomorrow. How wet-

Harley pulled back. His hands had worked their way into Peter’s hair, but he kept them there.

“Geez, Pete, are you crying? Was it really that bad?” Harley hoped his tone was mocking as he tried to calm his breath, still shocked that had actually just happened. A sly grin had worked its way to his lips now that they weren’t otherwise occupied. He kept his hand in Peter’s curls, bringing his thumbs around to meet at the bridge of his nose to brush away the tears spilling down his cheeks.

Peter breathed out a half laugh, half sob. “I just missed you, is all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harley replied, letting his guard drop in a rare display. But it was Peter, so he continued. “So bad it hurt.”

“Worse than anything.”

They stared at each other a moment more.

“I hoped, but I never thought I’d actually get back.”

“But now you are.”

“I am. With you.”

“With me,” Harley whispered as if he said the words too loud they wouldn't be true. 

They stared at each other a moment, Harley wiping away the remaining tears before Peter brought their lips back together, softer this time. He kept his thumbs on Peter’s cheeks, cradling his face as they continued for what seemed like hours.

They broke apart again as May entered the room.

“Do I need to have the talk?” She teased, eyebrow quirked.

"May, I- we, oh my god," Peter spluttered, as he pushed Harley's hands from his face, now redder than it was before. He was unsure if he was flattered or annoyed that he hadn’t got a similar sort of reaction from him by actually kissing him, rather than being caught in the act.

So he decided to try now, Dr Carly warning him in the back of his mind.

“Tony already tried.” He admitted. As they both turned to him, he explained, “Like, a year ago. Exactly a year ago. He was concerned about the amount of time Peter was spending in my bed,” he shrugged. 

"Excuse me?” May’s voice rose to almost a screech that Harley could not hear as Peter flushed, his eyes wide. Harley grinned in success. “There is to be a no closed door policy from now on, you hear me? And then we are definitely doing a course refresher. Come one, Cho’s waiting for you. And then you need to rest. In a different bed to Harley, you hear me?”

“I thought you were asleep,” Peter groaned as she strode out of the lab.

“Mmmm,” Harley kept his eyes on Peter’s receding blush.

“Why did you do that?”

Haley smirked

"May’s not happy, Harley,” Peter’s expression whined.

“It was worth it.”

“Maybe you didn’t see what she said. Different beds, Harley. Different.”

And it sunk in. “Oh. Dammit.”

“Yeah. Who’s the idiot now, Taco?” 

“Not Taco. I’m Harley Keener. I’ll find a way.”

Peter groaned, sliding his hands down his face, Harley not catching any of it. He tapped at his lips with a questioning eyebrow.

“I said, ‘What have I gotten myself into.’ And then I groaned.” Peter said clearer this time. Nevertheless, he gave Harley a quick peck on the cheek before turning to exit. “May will send in an army if we don’t go now.”

Harley was tempted to call a code red and put the lab in lock down to keep Peter hostage, but honestly May seemed pretty serious. And Harley would be a liar if he didn’t admit that she was actually quite scary. Especially when he knew that deep down he hoped to have to face her for the rest of his life. So he trailed behind Peter, picking up a pair of working aids as he did, ignoring May’s satisfied smirk as they entered the Med-Bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I’m pretty sure this is my first non devastating chapter? Is this fluff?  
> Lemme know what you think and if it's not awful I might write more. (Did someone say happy ending?)


	15. My world's on fire, how bout yours?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for reference to past suicidal thoughts.

Peter would go through the whole past year a million times if he knew it was going to end like that every single time. He didn’t even know where he plucked the courage from, hell he’d felt less nervous at the prospect of fighting Doc Oc, but Harley looked so homely, so peaceful in the lab, his accent so hypnotic that Peter felt compelled to tell the truth, to make a move. He’s not sure Harley would say the same about a year of trauma, but he didn’t seem too repulsed by the kiss, or still angry, so Peter took that as a monumental win. He’d only ever kissed Liz that one time at the dance, but she definitely did _not_ make a noise like Harley had. 

Actually, that might not have been a good thing. 

Oh god.

“Peter?”

“I- uh, what?” He blushed, realising he’d been thinking those thoughts in front of Cho and May and Harley, who smirked. Peter ignored him.

“We’re going to try some food. Just some plain soup, something easy so if it comes back up it shouldn’t hurt too much.”

He suddenly regretted asking Harley to stay. He couldn’t imagine he was very attractive while vomiting. And he didn’t think Harley would want to kiss him again after seeing that. 

And on top of all that if he threw up again they were sure to press him further.

Helen picked up on his hesitancy. “This was your idea. You said you were feeling up to it.”

He looked down. “It’s not that bad,” he offered, tugging gently on the tube. “It can wait.” Peter looked to the rooms’ raised eyebrows. “I’m just really tired.”

“What’s this really about, Peter?” May stepped forward, but Peter shook his head.

“I think you'll be fine. You've healed quite nicely already. Eat your soup and I’ll let you jailbreak again,” Dr Cho coaxed. “20 minutes this time.”

“An hour,” Peter said firmly.

“Two,” she countered.

Peter cracked a smile. “I’m not sure that’s how negotiation works.”

“Take it or leave it, Mr Parker. Your final offer.”

May parted her mouth to speak, concerned, but the doctor quelled her with a look. “If he rests and keeps the soup down after an hour, he can walk around. A reward for good behaviour. In any case, he needs to start moving at some point. It’s just as harmful to stay tethered to a bed.”

“Alright then,” he relented, his hands out and ready.

The soup was warm and bland, not his favourite, but it went down and thankfully for everyone, it stayed down.

“Is it good enough to get off the machines for a bit? Can I go for another walk now?” He begged after an hour.

“Skedaddle. The both of you, Harley stick with him. Call me, call anyone, if anything happens”

“Of course,” they uttered in sync. He smiled, only growing larger as the women left the room.

“Let me shower first, I’m so gross. I’ll be quick,” he promised to Harley.

“Do you need help with that?”

He shook his head with a laugh as he entered the bathroom. He shut the door, slightly too hard, as panic crept in. Oh god. Was he meant to say yes? Is that what Harley _meant_ ? Or was he actually just being helpful? Peter had no idea how these things actually were supposed to work. He wondered momentarily if it would be a good idea to try to drown himself in the shower, to race his poor heart which was surely going to give way any moment. He stopped short when he realised that would have to mean Harley would rush in and he was actually back to where he started. So he settled with taking the quickest shower he possibly could. Truthfully, he still felt a bit wobbly on his legs, he wasn’t sure from fatigue, muscle wastage, or the thought of spending time with Harley now things were _different._ He hoped, they were different. Good different.

“What was that before?” Harley asked as Peter stepped out of the bathroom.

Peter shrugged, feeling less refreshed than he thought he should after his first shower in a week. “You ready?” 

“Yup,” Harley said, popping the p. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Um, actually, I’m not sure I can do too much. Even standing in the shower was exhausting,” he admitted.

“That’s fine, we can just stay here.”

“No no, I want to go. Outside, I’m feeling cooped up in here. But somewhere to sit.”

“Alright. I know where. Pepper made a garden. It’s nice, not too far. You'll like it, make sure you tell her you do. It’s her pride and joy, sure she loves it more than she does Tony.”

Harley led the way, a few steps ahead, but Peter pulled him back. He slid his hand into Harley’s, both of them choosing to ignore the other hand in the crease of his elbow, offsetting some of Peter’s weight as they slowly walked down the hallway. 

“You sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Harley asked as Peter let a pant escape. 

“Over my dead body,” he grumbled.

“You can only make those jokes if they’re actually funny,” Harley grimaced as he looked away, but they were outside by now. It was beautiful, of course, nothing less than he'd expect from Pepper. Harley led him to a bench, Peter grateful to be sitting again, even though that’s all he had been doing for so long.

The air was fresh, and crisp, and somehow familiar though he’d never been here, as Peter breathed it in. He hadn’t had air like this, or a feeling of peace, in such a long time. He kept his hand in Harley’s as they sat, Peter simply taking in the sight, the sound of Harley as he talked about his year, the other parts of it, for the first time.

“I can’t stop thinking about those kids,” Peter said as they made their way back.

“Which kids?”

“The ones who went missing, the sick ones. From Mr Stark’s story.”

“People go missing all the time, Pete,” Harley said, not unkindly.

“Yeah, like me,” Peter replied quietly, Harley eyeing him as they entered the room.

Seeing as Peter had not collapsed or died or anything in between on his short reprieve, Dr Cho set up a new schedule for him. Deciding Harley was responsible enough to supervise, something Peter didn’t necessarily agree with but wasn’t going to fight especially now that May was involved in their time, he was allowed to roam the compound mornings and afternoons. He would still receive IV treatments overnight and for two hours over lunch, which he was allowed to eat so long as he tolerated it. He’d still have the feed over night, but on seeing his lip twitch the doctor assured him it shouldn’t be long until he was off that completely. Though he lied to Helen and Tony about it, the force feeding was the bit Peter hated the most, the most dehumanising. But he could persevere, with his family around him.

Pete was happy, he realised, the gnawing feeling he felt earlier completely disappeared. More than that. He was elated, as he watched Harley read on the chairs in the Med Bay that afternoon. It was the combination of being home, and finally feeling slightly better, and Harley, being Harley and quite possibly _his_ , and every person he loved being together, though he knew that time with Tiger and Gwen would soon come to an end. 

“Big day for you. This morning, eating, new found freedom... Pepper said she came by,” Harley said, far too nonchalantly, after dinner.

“Yeah. Harley, I-”

“If you’re about to apologise I’m going to leave.”

“I am. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“That’s not why I brought it up,” Harley’s gaze was serious as he lowered his book.

Peter froze. “You sure know how to kill the mood.”

“I’m about to kill it a bit more.”

Harley slowly clambered on to the bed. He lay down, and at Peter’s look, he shrugged, the movement jostling into him. “My therapist is big on talking and knowing things.”

“You didn’t exactly do much talking.”

“So you could tell May, and then she could tell me. Quid pro quo, I just read about that.” 

“The thought of May knowing makes me wanna lose my dinner.”

“Still got the bucket here,” he teased.

Peter groaned a little, but Harley settled his head in the middle of Peter’s chest after he pulled the blanket up over both of them. He was clearly prepared to stay a while.

“The first world I jumped to was dying,” he started quietly, but sighed when Harley stiffened in response.

“Sorry, I’ll be good, and quiet,” he mumbled. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but Peter rubbed his hands up and down Harley’s back until he fully relaxed before continuing.

“Their world ran on nuclear power plants, different from ours but still the same cause and effect. Electricity, military, medicine, politics, it was all powered by it, keeping their human race running. Until it didn’t. It turned on them, slow leaks at first, half the population sick and dying before anyone realised. And by the time they did, it was too late. Like humans do, they all blamed each other in their panic, not caring that none of it even mattered. Who even knows why, in the midst of it all, but they started bombing each other, nuclear of course. A nuclear hot war to fight what they thought was a nuclear cold war. It did nothing good except to speed up the apocalypse.”

“How are you still alive?” Harley breathed, both in awe and horror.

“That was all before I got there. I got jumped straight into the end of the holocaust. Everyone was already dead.”

Harley whistled, low.

“They played with fire, and they thought they were ready to get burnt, but they weren’t prepared for the whole world to go up in flames. Safe rooms, bunkers, rations, technology, it was all useless in the end. Their final contingency was to cryogenically freeze essential personnel like world leaders, scientists, doctors while teams on the outside tried to figure out how to save humanity. The idea was that once they did, they could start the world anew. But they didn’t. The teams outside, no closer to a solution then when they'd started, they all died."

“Except Peter. I don’t know if he was the only person just in the city, the country or the whole world, but he’d been alone for years. A combination of the bite, his suit, his smarts, he was the only one left. The only one who could save them all. So that’s what he tried to do, try to save the world by himself, and not even for himself. He about had a heart attack when he saw me, it took so long to convince him I wasn’t a hallucination or a zombie. But I was lucky he found me that first day, before I’d eaten too much or taken my suit off. But he found me, he didn’t even care why I was there or trying to get me out. It broke my heart, but for him, I was the solution. But with nothing else to do, he starting teaching me. Every day, we’d look at this unsolvable problem that just screamed of death, all the while the clock was ticking. Not just for the people in the cryogenic chambers, but for Peter. He lasted so long, but even he wasn’t invincible or immortal. All those years, it had caught up to him. He was dying, and slowly. And I got to watch. But he still tried, until he couldn’t anymore.”

Peter paused, swallowing, but now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. It was scratching his heart, desperate to get out.

“After he died, it was just this endless stretch of time. I’d wake up alone, go through my day alone, then go to sleep alone, every day to a grey world where there wasn’t even night or day. Some days the sky would burn red and orange, too bright to look at, as firestorms ripped through. But then it would settle back to the dull nothingness.”

“I didn’t know what to do. Karen was around for a bit but eventually she malfunctioned. I didn’t even try to fix her, I couldn’t bring myself to it. She, the suit, they were my only connection to home, this world, but I didn’t want it to be. I wanted more. I just wanted to be home, or even quite honestly, anywhere but there."

“When she stopped talking, I tried talking to myself because I hated the silence. It didn’t end well, it’s amazing how many fights you can have with yourself, how much more the words mean when you say them aloud. I ended up hating myself because I’d told myself to, so I just stopped talking. It just became me and my thoughts and silence.”

“I kept track of time, I shouldn’t have. It messed with my head, I don’t even know why I did it. Peter died two months after I got there, and I had five months by myself, which matches what Tiger’s told me, so I guess it’s the same, time, in that world at least. Two months of watching myself go mad and die, then five months of failing, trying to save a dying world, while I still died and went mad. I’ve only just now realised now that the minute I was jumped out of it again, that world had no hope. By now, it’s long dead.”

Much like Peter had to Harley’s revelation, Harley offered little comfort in the way of words. But right now, Peter couldn’t stand the silence, it was too close to the world he wanted to escape, so he plucked at a random thought.

“I had the suit on the whole time I was there, but when I jumped into Gwen’s world, I wouldn’t wear it. I kept it close, it meant to much to get rid of it, but I didn’t put it on until Tiger asked me, when we tried a controlled jump, where no one knew what would happen.” He paused, the past few days lingering. “Guess my stubbornness saved me from months of radiation exposure.”

Harley hummed in response, but offered nothing more.

Peter voiced another thought.

“It was ironic, once I figured out what was going on. I spent five months with no one but myself and every time I got jumped I landed with myself again.” He laughed but he wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t find it funny. “I’m sick of me, all versions of me,” he admitted.

“Want me to ask Tony to kick Tiger and Gwen to the curb, then?”

“No,” he replied, his voice hitching. “I-. I mean it, but I still don’t. They saved me. Didn’t let me be alone. Gwen talked so much I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts. And it’s good, I don’t want to hear my own thoughts anymore. I understand it, not in the same way I know Harley, but I understand what silence is like. And I can’t stand it, I hate it.”

“You don’t even have to be alone ever again,” Harley promised into his chest.

“I know.”

“I mean it, Pete,” Harley shuffled up to look into Peter’s eyes, finding what he needed. He settled his chin more so into Peter’s collarbone,breathing onto his neck as Peter rested his chin on the top of Harley’s head. “Did you think about it?”

Peter didn’t need to ask him to clarify.

“Yeah.”

Harley seemed saddened by this, but said, “I guess I would have too.”

“The glitches alone were pain enough to want to. On top of that, I just, I felt so alone, so helpless and hopeless, there was literally no point. Everyone else was dead, so what was one more. And watching Peter, I didn’t want to go like that, it was so slow and painful. I guess that’s why I didn’t say anything about it when I first got home either. I didn’t want to know if it was going to happen to me too. When I die, I want it to be quick. I thought about how to make it quick, so much, those five months.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I guess the same reason Peter didn’t.”

Harley nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he did.

“Also, you’re darn stubborn.” Harley lifted his head up again. “But you go on being as stubborn as you need, I’ll put up with it. As long as it keeps you around.”

“Only if you promise to never leave me alone again,” Peter replied in a small voice.

“You’ll never be alone again, I swear it.”

Harley brought his lips up to Peters, but unlike before this was quick and soft. He settled back down to his original position on Peter’s chest, but this time, this silence was comforting, not overwhelming. They stayed like that, just happy resting, until May came in to kick Harley out.

“I’m getting him to talk, May! It’s therapeutic,” he whined.

“If he wants therapy he can talk to Dr Carly, in a chair, in the morning. You, out. Own bed tonight, thank you Mr Keener.”

“Come find me later,” Peter whispered as Harley wriggled out of his ams.

“I heard that Peter,” May warned. Harley’s eyes went wide but he winked nonetheless. May ruffled his hair as he left, and stepped forward to tuck Peter in, a ruffle and a kiss for him.

Whether or not Harley climbed into his bed in the middle of the night or not, Peter couldn’t be sure. He didn’t doubt it though, Harley wouldn’t break a promise, not like that. He woke late into the morning, Harley sitting in a chair as the flurry of nurses worked around him to remove his tubes for the morning. 

“We’ve never actually hugged before,” Peter said after the nurses had left. It must have been sudden for Harley, lost in his book, for he started.

“What the heck, Parker?” He grumbled as he searched for his place again, oblivious that Peter was free once again.

“You and me, we’ve never actually hugged before.”

“Sure we have,” he replied flippantly as he found it.

“No, I mean like, properly hugged. I’ve held you when you were upset after Visions, you’ve carried me to the Med-Bay a few times, but we’ve never actually just, you know, hugged.”

“Huh,” Harley said indifferently as this sunk in, eyes skimming his pages. 

The pair was silent, before Peter spoke once more, causing Harley to jump again. Peter wondered if Harley was as nervous around him as Peter was, causing him to be so twitchy.

“We should try it.”

“Why?”

“Me and May do it all the time.”

“Why?” He asked again.

“Just because,” he sighed as Harley looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Normal people with _feelings_ do it Harley. Mostly because it feels nice.” Harley still didn’t speak. “It'll help me tell if you’re a sociopath Harley. It’ll save me a whole lot of heart break down the line.”

“I’m good,” Harley shifted in his seat, looking down at his book. “And also very likely a sociopath.”

But Peter was insistent, and the pain killers had kicked in. He stood, moving in front of Harley. Once he’d removed the book from his hands, Peter crossed his arms.

“I know you’re rereading this. I want to.”

“Why? Parker, it’s just a hug.”

“If it’s just a hug to you, why can’t we do it. My god Harley, you literally had your tongue in my mouth yesterday, why is this weirding you out?”

“Your tongue was first!” Harley exclaimed.

“I didn’t hear you complaining. Besides, you said last night I could be stubborn. So here I am, being stubborn.”

“Fine. Do your worst,” Harley said as he stood. He held his arms out wide, Peter scowling at his theatrics.

He pushed them to Harley’s side, the boy deliberately keeping them stiff. Peter left enough room to slide his hands around to clasp at his back, and he ducked his head so it could fit onto Harley’s chest.

“This is weird,” Harley said after a few moments passed, still standing with his arms down.

“Only because you’re making it weird.”

“It’s awkward, Parker,” he whined again.

“Just relax,” he said, unclasping his own hands. He guided Harley’s hands to his own back before wrapping his arms around him again. As Peter settled his head into Harley’s chest once more he felt Harley’s cheek dop onto the top of his head. And for moments, they were content to just stand there.

“I can’t hear your heartbeat but I can feel it,” Peter mused against his chest, not sure how much time had passed.

“I gave you this hug, Parker, I can just as easily take it away,” he growled, the motion rumbling in his chest.

Peter feigned horror. “You wouldn't dare.” But he tightened his arms just in case.

They stood there for an eternity, Peter could feel Harley relaxing into the hug with each passing moment, his heartbeat slowing. Satisfied, Peter pulled away, batting his eyes up at Harley as he looked up with a smug face.

Harley quickly rearranged his features from an expression of bliss into a scowl.

“You got your hug. Can we make out again?”

Peter chuckled again, but he was definitely not opposed to that idea. The touch of Harley’s lips to his had haunted him since they’d left his yesterday.

“I guess you do deserve a treat for being so good,” Peter smiled as he leaned into the faux angry expression, his previously calm heart hammering as his face got closer.

“You don’t,” Harley retorted, firmly clenching his lips together as Peter pressed his own to them, although it was his idea. Peter kept his assault up, pressing them in firmer, utilising an ounce of his super strength until Harley muttered, “That’s cheating.” 

Peter was devious, using the open mouth as an opportunity to enter further into Harley’s mouth. But Harley was raised by the devil himself, and knew what was coming, clenching his teeth before Peter got what he wanted.

He ran his tongue across Harley’s teeth, not breaking contact until he groaned, finally parting his mouth. 

Which is when they were unfortunately interrupted again.

“I mean it boys. I’ll start chaperoning and enforcing a ruler rule,” May teased as she walked in, lunch in hand. 

“How does she know?" Harley muttered.

"Maybe she’s got a radar,” Peter said back quietly. Harley stilled a moment before he grinned. "What?"

"Don't you mean a gaydar?"

And that's how the pillow fight started.


	16. A convenient cover

Harley’s lips were aching with how much they’d been glued to Peter’s the past two days. He wasn’t complaining, he could never complain about this, but Peter seemed to be just as eager for his mouth to find Harley’s. It was endearing, how excited Peter got, over him. But also painful as on occasion, he was likely to forget his own strength. Hell, Harley had seen Peter break a couch once when he got too affected by a TV show. But kissing Peter was intoxicating, addicting, and it was only May who would dare to give him the brief reprieve. He'd never say it out loud, but a small part, Harley’s lips mostly, were grateful.

“Do you wanna try hugging again,” Peter said as he broke away from the kiss.

“Oh god, Parker. Seriously?” Harley didn’t bother to hide his disappointment at the lack of contact, nor his breathlessness. He flung his forearm up over his face as he rolled onto his back, but quickly decided that it was not prime glaring position and brought his arm back down.

Peter bit his lip as Harley stared at it, and even though they’d only just stopped, he couldn’t help wishing that either the lips or teeth were somewhere else. Where they had been, just moments ago. Until he was so rudely interrupted. By a child. Wanting to do child things. “Well we only tried stage one hugging,” Peter said coyly as he fiddled with a hole he had suddenly discovered in the bottom of his shirt.

Harley groaned. “There are stages?”

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” Peter said, a little nervously. He accidentally ripped the hole wider with a sigh, but kept looking down while he waited for Harley.

“Just get it over with.” He’d caught his breath again. “I want to make out some more before I gotta go work on that trans-dimensional travel device. You know, the one you screwed up and blasted a hole in yourself and New York.”

“In my defense I was dying, both literally and figuratively, to get home. Also, all their tech was all backwards. It was like working upside down in a mirror,” Peter said, as he seemed to brace himself. Harley frowned, still unsure what he was missing that was so good about hugging. He much preferred Peter’s mouth on his, besides they were probably doing something quite alike hugging in an effort to bring themselves closer whilst doing so. His mama was never much one for it and he felt Pepper did it out of necessity. May mostly seemed afraid to do it, like Harley would break. Which he might of, now that he thought of it, this past year. But Peter didn’t seem to think he’d break, that much was clear by the ferocity of his mouth on Harley's.

Peter inhaled before flipping suddenly over Harley, landing with his forearms either side of Harley’s chest. The force bounced Harley’s head on the pillows, his eyes wide, though he couldn’t say he was _scared_ by the switch. Just shocked. Peter lowered himself.

“Oh,” Harley said as he felt the full weight of Peter’s hips push into his against the soft bed.

“Yeah,” Peter breathed as he lowered the rest of his weight onto Harley, the pressure blanketing him.

He stilled, very aware of _every_ part of Peter that was resting against him. Not just resting, but pushing, the weight comforting. This was not quite like the hugging, nor any sort of touching they’d done before, and it was setting Harley’s skin afire. Peter's weight reminded him that he was here, he was really here. Not only that, but the gravity forcing Peter into Harley was like the earth saying it didn't care that they wanted to be together, it needed them to be close. In any other circumstance Harley might have felt panicked, claustrophobic even, but he knew his heart was racing for different reasons. His lungs weren't being crushed, like they usually felt, if anything they were more open than ever. Harley took advantage of the air. He breathed, in and out, and soon Peter’s breathing matched his own. The whole time his eyes stayed trained on Harley’s face. 

Though he was enjoying Peter’s weight, ohmygod it was good, he was sure he could quickly become embarrassed if Peter stayed there too long, not by any manner he had control over. He was saved by a sudden thought. Unable to help himself, he bit his lip, rolling it slightly between his teeth, enjoying the shift in Peter’s eyes before he said “I hope you don’t do this with your aunt.”

It was Peter’s turn to groan. “Harley,” he said, rolling off him. “You just ruined it,” he said, and he slapped his chest lightly, for Peter, the soft blow still knocking air out of Harley. Peter froze with a shock, staring at Harley in fear, his hand waiting just inches from his chest.

Harley laughed once he regained his breath, rolling onto his side to face Peter. He continued to chuckle as he stuck his finger through the hole in the edge of Peter’s shirt. He both earned and enjoyed the hiss of air as his air from Peter as he grazed his nail across the bare skin.

“Payback,” he smirked, pulling his finger out to instead slip his hand under Peter’s shirt, tracing along his hip bones, this time resulting in a shiver. “I’m fine. That was too smooth for you though Parker, did another Harley in your worldly travels teach you that?”

Peter stilled again, so Harley stopped with him. There was still so much to discuss, Peter was so raw which left Harley wondering if he had pushed it too far. He opened his mouth to apologise as Peter stared down at the arm disappearing into his shirt.

“I’m sorry-”, “I didn’t-”

Peter laughed. “No, let me go first. Don’t apologise,” he said as he tapped on Harley’s arm. When Harley didn’t continue, Peter reached under his shirt to tug at his hand, moving it higher to his stomach, moving the fingers himself until Harley got the hint. “I didn't find any other Harleys. I thought about it. I didn’t try in the first world, because _everybody_ was dead, you know. I didn’t need that, on top of it all. There weren’t even graves or records I could go through, even if I wanted to. When I met Gwen, once she settled a bit, and we had an idea of what was actually going on, she was all for it. She said I was so much like her Peter, so it could have been worth it. If I had of thought I would be stuck there for my entire life, I’m not sure, maybe, but seeing as Tony was different… You know? It still wouldn’t have been you, you know? I never really made up my mind, not in Gwen's world. I guess I still had hope that I'd find a way home. And then we kept jumping. We didn’t have time in Miles or Ben’s world and Tiger was adamant that it wasn’t a good idea when Gwen suggested it in his. I would have trusted him anyway, but he kinda grounded me. He just kept saying that he'd get me home, get me back to you.” 

“Hmmmm.” Harley said, focusing on the feeling of Peter’s stomach under him. Honestly, it was hard to focus on anything other than his ridiculous abs, Harley only faintly remembering to process what was being said.

“Is that okay?”

“This is more than okay, Parker,” he grinned as he thumbed over the dent where his hip bones met his obliques.

“I’m being serious," but Peter's breath hitched as Harley trailed them just below his belly button.

“So am I. We’ll never know what might have had to happen, so let’s just leave it at that. You can’t torture yourself with what if’s, and I’m not complaining about this ending at all.”

“Neither am I,” Peter said, seriously, before looking at the clock with a sigh. “But you should go. Both before May yells at you and before Tiger and Gwen glitch again. I saw them yesterday, and I didn’t like watching.”

Harley huffed, annoyed that their time was cut short but he knew Peter was right. “Fine. But you owe me the rest of that make out.”

“Only if you finish that hug with me. Without your weird thoughts about my aunt.”

“At this stage, she’s my aunt too, Parker. But don’t you worry, we’re definitely doing that again,” he said, hiding his own blush at his bravery as he rolled off the bed to slip his shoes on. Once completed, barely a thought about it, he rolled over and placed a quick kiss to Peter’s lips. “Take a nap. Come distract me in an hour.”

Peter nodded, settling into Harley's bed with a comfort and familiarity that tugged at Harley's heart. Peter kept true to his promise, appearing an hour later in Tony's lab. He shifted his weight, fiddling with pens and tools, and sighing loudly as he stood to the corner. After 5 minutes of his mood, Harley sighed himself and looked away from the blueprints in front of him. This wasn’t what he meant by distraction.He opened his mouth to tease, but he caught sight of Peter’s face and changed trajectory. Quick. 

"What's up?"

Peter shrugged, almost dejectedly.

“You don’t want them to leave, do you?” Harley asked softly.

“Yes and no,” Harley waited, knowing Peter would continue when he was ready. “I know what it’s like, to be away from your family for so long, and what the glitching does to you. But they’ve become my family too, you know, and I don't want to lose them. Gwen, just, she’s been around for everything now, like I’ve known her my whole life, I can see why we were best friends in another world. And I hate that I’m going to take that away from her. And Tiger? He’s just- he’s everything I want to be. I like being around him because he just knows what to say and do and everything’s right, but I don’t think I’ve spent enough time with him to be able to learn to be...him,” he finished lamely as he moved closer to the bench.

“How long do you want me to stall? I can break a few parts, spill some coffee, pretend it's impossible, my list of misbehavior is endless,” Harley offered as he walked up behind Peter, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Peter folded his arms atop them as Harley rested his chin just above his collarbone, breathing lightly into his neck.

Peter sighed. “I’ve thought about it. I swear, only just the once. And I hate myself for it. But it’s not fair. Especially after everything they’ve done for me.”

“I’m not sure I could lie to them either,” Harley tried to help his decision. “Or Tony. I don’t know how, but he always knows. Besides, I seen Tiger fiddling in here anyway. He’s smart enough to know what it all means.”

Peter breathed heavily. He let his head fall back, closer to Harley.

“I’m just, never going to see them again, you know?”

“We don’t know that, Peter. I am a genius after all. I could make a lot of money starting my own travel company. I’ll charge ya, not mates rates, probably charge you extra but don’t worry, it’d be in kisses or something.”

Peter didn’t say anything back and Harley regretted his lie. So he tried for the truth this time.

“You are good. You’re better than good. You’re Peter.”

He still didn’t reply, so Harley pressed softly again.

“And I meant it, what I said. When they leave, I’ll still be here. You won’t be alone. Ever.”

He turned to face Harley, finally, a sad smile on his face. “Thanks. So how far’d you get?” He nodded to the blueprints.

“Tony reckons only a few more days. They're in and out of the compound when you're asleep, but I can ask if they'll stay, call them when you wake up?”

Peter continued to look at the designs, before shaking his head. “We already said goodbye. Before the jump to New York. They weren't meant to stay, just get me back and leave.”

“Still, spend your time with them. I promise not to distract you too much.”

Peter laughed. “I don’t think that’s something you have control over.”

Harley smirked, but it was soft. “Let’s go anyway. I think May wants a proper sit down dinner tonight, with everyone, if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds nice. Sounds normal.”

“Overrated,” Harley muttered, adding an eye roll for dramatic effect, but pulled Peter along.

He laughed as he entered the lounge room. It was full, when May said full house she meant it. Tiger, Bruce, Tony, Pepper, Gwen and May were all strewn across various seats.

Gwen bounded up from her seat as they entered, and playfully tore Peter from Harley’s grip.

“Hands off Harley. You hogged him all these days, it’s my turn now,” she grinned as she pulled Peter onto the couch, pinning him on her lap with a tight hug.

Harley only smiled back as Pepper moved her curled legs, patting the seat in between her and Tony. He sat, watching Peter pretend to wriggle away but quickly give up, defeated. He leaned back into Gwen who beamed in victory.

“You wear it well, kid,” Tony murmured, slinging an arm around Harley, though he rested his fingers on Peppers shoulders.

“What?”

“Happiness.”

Harley’s smile slid as his mouth dropped in embarrassment, but he found he had no response. Tiger and Gwen grinned at him, as if they'd heard and were enjoying his discomfort. Of course they had heard. He scowled, but it quickly disappeared as he realised Peter hadn't heard, and that was partly his fault. 

“You taking care of my New York?” Peter said to Tiger as Gwen finally released him, letting him sit on his own cushion, but she kept her head tucked into Peter’s shoulder.

“You know I am, squirt.”

"Just avoid Harlem. They don't really like me down there." Tiger raised his eyebrows, rearranging his features to look offended at Peter's audacity at giving orders. “Just making sure. I’m not sure I could escape MJ’s warpath even from here if you come home late _and_ injured.”

Tiger laughed, deep and low. “No doubt, she'd find a way to make her own jump. I'm surprised she hasn't already, I was only meant to be a few hours." Peter paled slightly. Tiger's eyes flitted to Gwen as he tried to backtrack. "Nah, you’re safe. She took a shine to you, no wonders why. Though I would like to see her take on Harley," Tiger winked towards him as he said it. Moving his eyes to Tony, he continued, "I had a look at your plans today, Tony. It looks sound, how long will it take to build?”

Tony chuckled. “Harley’s the brains behind this, you better ask him.”

All eyes in the room trained on Harley. “Uhhhh,” he looked to Peter for silent help. He was still unclear as to whether or not he was meant to be stalling.

“Not that I want to go,” Tiger stumbled, quickly. “Just glitching, it’s not- well. I’d rather not. I don’t know how you coped with it for so long.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” Gwen said hesitantly, “but my hair has started falling out."

Peter’s eyes flashed. “He’s almost done,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of Gwen’s head. “Just making sure you’ll get back all in one piece. Hair, and all.”

"Thanks," Tiger said, quietly, directed at Harley. He nodded.

Peter frowned. "We can get you home, but that's not to say you'll stay there."

"What do you mean?"

“What if Norman uses it again? We don’t have any control over being jumped.” Harley looked to Gwen. Peter looked frightened at the prospect, Harley wanted to hold him, to tell him it would be alright, even if he wasn't sure. Gwen tightened he grip, nuzzling her head again with a small smile back to Harley.

“One step ahead of you, bud. While you've been sleeping, we've been working.” At Peter's confused look, Tiger continued, “Gwen and I, we’ve been looking for it.”

“Did you find it?”

“We can’t find anything to say the collider still even exists anymore.” 

“I know where it is. I’ve been there, I’ve seen it. I can show you.”

“No.” It was not Tiger or Tony, or even May. Harley spoke up, definitive. "You can tell them. But you're not going anywhere near it again, Pete."

Peter opened his mouth, most likely, not definitely to argue, but the look on the faces of the room confirmed a unanimous decision.

“There’s also the question of why it keeps being used in the first place. If you saw Harry in the collider, that means it worked, doesn't it?”

“That ones easy,” Peter said as he ran a hand through Gwen’s hair. A small chunk attached to his fingers. “If we can barely survive in another world, I doubt a human will last long.”

The room went silent.

Tony agreed quietly. “Tiger mentioned your little theory that Norman was stealing Harry from alternate universes. I don’t know why he needed so many, but the degeneration seen from being in another world is as good as a guess as anything else we’ve got right now. But that’s not our concern. It’s destroying the collider to stop it from happening again. We can deal with Norman later.”

“When have you been doing all this?” Peter asked.

Gwen laughed. “You sleep a lot, we didn’t want to disturb you. And when you’re awake, you’re with Harley and we _definitely_ don’t want to disturb that, either,” she teased her eyes twinkling.

Peter flushed and Harley scowled again, his eyes flicking to May in hope that she took it as a joke. The last thing he wanted was more restrictions.

“We’ll find it, Peter. You're home now, and you're staying here. In the meantime, you just have to focus on healing, and Harley and I can focus on our own collider. We'll get it done, and quickly," he added, looking towards Tiger. "I don’t pity the missing person’s report you’ll have to face when you get home.”

Harley stiffened, frowning as he looked between Tiger and Gwen.

“What’re you thinking?” Tony prodded, nudging his shoulder into Harley's. He knew that look too well for Harley to hide it.

He shook his head. “Just… the missing kids.” Tony arched an eyebrow. “The ones who went missing when Peter did. I- I don’t know. Just Pete said it didn’t sit right, and now it’s not with me either.”

The room went quiet as they waited for Harley to go on, but he was finished.

Peter swallowed as he stared at Harley. They hadn’t talked about this further, Harley didn’t want to, not when he didn’t know anything. He'd had some ideas, but they were nothing more than random thoughts in the darkness of the night, they were barely cohesive. He’d meant to bring them up, honestly, but Peter still looked so fragile, so breakable, Harley didn’t want to add another variable into the chaos. And now Tony had gone and dragged it all up.

“Harry Osborn had a rare and incurable disease,” Peter said again.

“And then he died, Peter,” May finished gently.

“You said all the kids who went missing before me were also sick. You said I was the last of them?"

Tony nodded. “They spread from two years to about five months before you.”

“Five months. So two months before Harry actually died.”

“It was just a convenient cover, bud,” Tony sighed. "And we jumped at the chance, because it was easy. But nothing ever came from it. We just got lucky."

“No, I don’t think so. I don't have that kind of luck, not good luck,” he shook his head. “And jumping universes, creating something so massive, that’s a pretty radical step, even for Norman.”

“What are you trying to say, Peter?” 

“OsCorp made a big push for funding of advancement of medical technology. It was all over the news, don’t you remember? A few years ago, like two or three years before I-. It was when Harry first got sick.” Peter had the room now. “I know Norman, and I knew Harry. I’m not sure Norman every loved Harry, not like he should, but he sat through his wife dying and he doesn’t like losing, and maybe he felt enough for Harry that he though he should do something about it.”

“So you think he skipped the lab rat phase and went straight to human testing? Kids off the street?”

Peter shrugged. “The kids were sick, and you said they found a body, who's DNA was addled." He stared at Tony, and when the man didn't reply he shook his head. "I don’t know. It sounds, I know, but... ”

Tony leaned back into the seat, removing his arm from around Harley's shoulder to fold them into his lap.

"You don't believe me."

"Tony..." Harley warned as hurt flashed across Peter's face, quickly replaced by a stubborn set of his jaw. He knew that look. And it never ended well.

It seemed Tony did too. "Doesn't matter if I do or don't. You'll go running again if I don't do anything, so I promise I'll look into it."

Peter seemed less than happy, but nodded.

Tony leaned forward. “They could all be dead already by now. It’s been three years, for some of them.”

“Their families still deserve it,” Peter countered.

“Not knowing is worse,” Harley added, looking at Tony. "Don't tell me you don't think that."

"You know that's not what I meant, Harley. I'm just being realistic."

"Enough talk. Let's please just have a nice dinner," Pepper pleaded as she rose, hand ruffling Harley's hair as she did so.

 **"** Guess we do make a pretty good team,” Harley breathed to Peter as they made their way to the dining room.

"Just wait till we can rehearse it. We'll be unstoppable," he grinned back to Harley, but it wasn't quite right. Harley squeezed his hand.

"Don't even think about it," Pepper called out from ahead.

This time, Peter's smile reached his eyes.


End file.
